Sleeping Dragons
by 10FreeThings
Summary: Hermione Granger saw the world in Black and White. For the longest time she believed that the Order was good and the Death Eaters just pure evil. Her beliefs were shattered in the wake of her parents' murders where she learns that there is no good and evil, only power and those strong enough to seek it. The only question was whether she was strong enough to grab it.
1. Act One Scene One

Disclaimer: The characters and setting belong to J K Rowling. I wish I owned it though :P

* * *

"In this chapter we will learn about the true nature of prophecies. Earlier in

chapter two we observed the tragic case of Oedipus; a man who thought

he could escape fate. The Oracle of Delphi prophesied that he would one day murder his father and marry his mother. Naturally he

didn't want that to happen but despite Oedipus's best efforts it came others have tried changing their

destinies but, all failed one way or another. The lesson we can learn from their mistakes

is that the more you try to fight against fate, the

more fate will fight you."

- _"Introduction to Visionary Magic"_ Professor Tempest Stormson, _Master Diviner_

 _College of the Enlightened_ , Ireland

* * *

Act One Scene One:

"Mum, Dad!" exclaimed the girl cheerfully as she stepped through the stone barrier of King's Cross Station towards a waiting couple.  
"Welcome back sweetheart", called out a man with bushy hair .  
"How was school?", asked the woman.  
"It was …good", the girl said reluctantly. She felt nervous. Nothing was said between the three people as they made their way to the car, until her mother broke the silence.  
"We're just glad you are back, Hermione." Hermione smiled. She was home. She no- they were safe. At least she hoped.

* * *

Hermione wished it would rain. She turned her head towards the window. Why was it so sunny today? The sun's rays were shining through the window bathing her room with light and warmth. _As if that would bring me comfort_ she thought wryly to herself. Standing next to her desk, Hermione ran her fingers absentmindedly over the black surface. Her hand felt something hard and square. Lifting the object to her face, Hermione recognized the simple, black frame. She held the photograph before her. An eleven-year old Hermione stared back. In her hands was her Hogwarts acceptance letter. This Hermione was grinning from ear to ear. Her proud parents were flanking each side. Her parents….

She could hear her breath catch. The picture shook furiously as Hermione's hands began to tremble, almost dropping it entirely. The picture in front of her started to blur in before her eyes. Not that she noticed; Hermione was preoccupied with another matter.

 _Not now_ Hermione ordered herself. _Please not now!_ The familiar ache she had for the past week began to form again at the base of her skull, slowly spreading upwards. Feeling the energy being sucked out of her, she sank to her knees clutching the photo to her chest. Despite her best efforts, Hermione could taste the few, salty tears that managed to leak out of her eyes. Why did everything go wrong?

A sharp knock rang from the door. Hermione flinched and jumped to her feet. Her back was to the door. She hastily wiped her eyes and placed the framed photograph underneath one of the books on her desk. Hermione willed herself to stop shaking so hard. The door opened quietly behind her.

"Hermione, dear", a voice called out tentatively as if reluctant to speak at all.

Hermione didn't react. Instead she just clutched the desk in front of her so hard her knuckles turned white.

"Hermione ", the elderly voice called out again. This time more confidently.

Finally Hermione replied, "Yes?"  
She still hadn't turned from her spot. Hermione hated how her voice cracked. It made her sound weak. _That's because you are_ the treacherous part of her mind said.

"Are you ready?", the person asked. Hermione's chest tightened and she closed her eyes. Why did she have to go?

"Yes", Hermione gritted out. She clutched the desk tighter like it was her lifeline, but then let go. She could no longer ignore the way her fingers ached. Hermione calmed herself then turned around. Addressing the person in front of her she finally spoke, "I'll be right down."

* * *

The funeral was anticlimactic thought Hermione with a sort of morbid humor. The thick, black mourning clothes she had on made her sweat way too much to be considered comfortable. The sun clearly didn't make things any better. The heat and the sickening aroma from all the flowers the mourners brought were enough to make the witch nauseous.

Hermione turned her attention to the two large caskets in front of her. It has been a week since the incident happened. Before her, lay the shells of the two people she loved more than anyone else in the world. She looked at their faces impassively. Faces that used stare back with her with life no longer smiled back at her anymore. In their place were two stone, stiff look-alikes. So, Hermione just stared impassively back. Death was still a subject she couldn't yet wrap her head around…couldn't accept. No book she had ever read could have prepared her for the mighty blow she received when she heard the news.

* * *

A week ago:

Hermione was curled up at the couch next to the window in her father's study, reading a book her aunt had gifted her recently. To her delight, the book was an old edition of Alice in Wonderland. While turning the page, the home phone rang making her jump a little. Lifting her finger, Hermione saw a small bead of blood beginning to form; the paper had nicked her quite hard. Thought fully aware that sticking a wound in your mouth was not a smart idea, Hermione still stuck her finger in out of habit. A sharp ring from the telephone reminded her the she should probably pick it up. Reluctantly, Hermione got up from her comfortable perch and went to go see who it was. Hermione removed her finger from her mouth, the metallic taste slowly fading on her tongue as she picked up the phone. Probably Dad again Hermione mused to herself. Might have slept overnight in his office. He did that sometimes.

"Hello", Hermione spoke into the phone.

"Is this Hermione Granger", an unfamiliar, male voice asked.

"Yes?", she said cautiously.

The person on the line paused for a few seconds. She heard him take a deep breath and said,  
"It's about your parents. There's been an incident."

Hermione felt her heart stop. She froze in place already dreading the worst before she asked, "What is it?" It surprised her how steady and calm her voice was.

The person continued slowly, "Right now they are in St. Helen's hospital Room 23 of the surgery ward. The doctors are doing their best to save your parents and we were told to call the next of kin. We called your grandmother beforehand and were told to tell you to meet her there."

"Thank you. I'll be right there", Hermione said panic evident in her voice. Quickly, Hermione threw a jacket on herself and practically flew down the stairs. She barely had put on her shoes when she threw the door open, locking it behind her and ran out into the night.

For the first time in her life, Hermione cursed the ministry for forbidding underage magic outside of Hogwarts. Calling the Knight Bus would have been much simpler. Instead, Hermione sat worriedly, bouncing her leg in a muggle bus with a haunted look on her face. Distantly Hermione could hear a child asking his mother why the lady was acting so weird.

"Don't look at her Billy", Hermione heard the mother whisper harshly. "She obviously has a problem."

Hermione covered her hands with her face shaking. Yes it appeared that she did have a problem. _It's all my fault. Oh Merlin it's all my fault. Please- please-please….Merlin….God….anyone please let them be all right_. The thoughts repeated in her mind like a broken record stuck on repeat- repeat-repeat...

After a thirty minute long ride, Hermione pressed the stop button for Hingherbury Street. Without thanking the driver, she ran out towards the main doors for Emergency. There she saw a familiar, stout, stern faced old lady. Her grandmother face full of worry got up to meet her. Hermione didn't bother waiting for her to muster enough strength to walk up to her. Instead she met up with her grandmother halfway.

"Where are they?", Hermione demanded briefly hugging her grandmother. Old lady Granger's lips thinned reluctant to say anything. Eventually she sighed and said,

"They refused to tell me anything. Just said to wait out here for news."

Hermione sank to a nearby seat once again covering her face in her hands. Why won't they say anything? _They have to be fine_ she thought said nothing would happen. Hermione's grandmother sat in the seat next to her with some difficulty because of her age. Oh how she felt old, but she had her role to fulfill as the elder. Old lady Granger brought her left arm to her distraught granddaughter and leaned Hermione's head to her aged, bony shoulder. She caressed Hermione's head comfortingly trying to ease the concern in their hearts.

Many long, painful hours passed. Not a word was spoken between the two Grangers. Old lady Granger had been long asleep by the two hour mark. Hermione on the other hand had kept herself wide awake as if the situation would go for the worse if she closed her eyes long enough. Eventually the twin, automatic glass doors opened and a grim faced doctor in scrubs walked out.

He walked straight towards them. Hermione roused her grandmother so they both could hear the news. To their surprise the doctor didn't speak for the longest time. Only a look of determination was evident on his face.

He finally spoke, "Are you two Hermione Granger and Emily Granger?"

Hermione responded first,"Yes we are. Is there any news? How are they?"

The doctor didn't respond back, merely gazed at them. He bowed his head. Hermione just knew...

 _No!_

"There has been a complication," he said grimly

 _No!_

"Despite our best efforts—"

 _No no no no!_

" We were unable to save Mr and Mrs. Granger. You have our deepest condolences."

Unable to contain her anguish, Hermione screamed.

* * *

She remembered that Monday evening, Hermione reminisced as she dropped a bouquet of roses into her parents' caskets. The doctor had informed her that Mr and were found in their respective offices on the floor and unresponsive. One of their assistants found the dentists. The assistant went to 's office first to discuss an issue of one of their patients, but instead found Mrs. Granger face down on the ground. Rushing to inform , the assistant also discovered in the same position.

From what the paramedics that arrived at the scene determined, both of the dentists had died of acute heart failure. All attempts of re-starting their hearts failed. _Of course they failed_ remarked Hermione angrily in her mind. _Hard to save someone from the killing curse._ They also determined that it was just coincidental that both dentists had heart attacks so no foul play was suspected. Hermione knew better. Only a curse could have murdered her parents in such a manner and only one group in Magical Britain inhumane enough to commit the crime.

Hermione took one last look at her parents, drinking in the sight knowing it would be her last. "I'm really sorry. I'm so so sorry", she told them though they could no longer hear her apology.

She turned and walked back to the funeral party gathered, sitting around the two mounds of dirt. Hermione watched as some of her Dad's relatives began lifting the ebony caskets, lowering them to the ground. Many people came for the burial. Very few of them were friends and family of the deceased. Most were curious, nosy neighbours and townspeople wanting to gain newest gossip.  
"Is that the Granger girl", Hermione distantly heard a voice a few rows down say.

"Hush", another voice chided. "She might hear us. Can't you see the poor dear mourning?"

"Oh do stop worrying. She's probably too focused on her parents to hear us anyhow," the first voice said thoughtlessly. Hermione frowned. She didn't like how this was going. "But, don't you think there is something odd about that girl?"

"Odd! Why do you say?", questioned the second voice.

The first voice snorted in derision. "Is it not obvious? Take one look at her. Don't you think that it's odd how the girl isn't shedding a single tear? I mean her parents died for Chrissake!" Hermione thought this was true. Why wasn't she crying? _Probably because you of all people don't deserve to_. There was that treacherous part of her head again.

"You can't say that!", the second voice whispered harshly sounding scandalized. "The poor dear is obviously in shock."

"Oh please", snapped the first voice. "That's no excuse. Anyways haven't you heard the rumours?"

"Rumours?", asked the second voice.

"Yes rumours! Christ you're slow", the first voice admonished. The second voice gasped offended but, the first paid no mind. "There's been talk you know. About where she goes to school. Some of the girls at the circle told me things. That the Granger girl ran with the nasty lot. Something about the drugs kids get into these days."

"That can't possibly be true!", the second voice exclaimed sounding skeptical.

"Oh, but it is", the first voice interjected eagerly. "In fact some of the girls told me that the poor dead dears tried their best to fix her that they sent her to some obscure year-long correction school. One in Scotland. You know, where they send the troublesome kids to."

"Oh my!", the second voice gasped."I never would have thought. She seemed like such a good girl."

Hermione gritted her teeth. So that was what people thought of her. But, really? Talking about her behind her back in her parents' funeral of all places? Those nosy banshees were about to cross a very dangerous line.

The first voice gave a girlish laugh. "Aye, that's what those sort want you to think! But you know? Dealing with such a troublesome girl, those parents must have been so sick of her!"

Do not go there Hermione willed the blabbering woman.

"She must be glad they're gone that nasty child"

Hermione had enough. Getting up from her seat she began to approach the two gossiping women.

Seeing the two women's faces for the first time, Hermione realized that she recognized them.  
The second voice belonged to mousy, plain women in her late thirties. Hermione knew her as one of her neighbors. The neighborhood knew the woman as the mother of those evil triplets that wrecked havoc in the suburbs. A shrew who spent most of her time gossiping with the other women rather than raising her brats properly. Which is probably why she was dubbed the mother of all devils.

Hermione wrinkled her nose at the other culprit. The other woman was the flat-nosed,snake-faced assistant who had discovered her parents' bodies. Hermione instantly disliked the woman from the first time they met, however, she believed that even an evil ghoul like her wouldn't be capable of saying such tactless things. _Voldemort would have like her_ Hermione thought humorlessly. _Merlin, even Snape was more human than this person. Well if i have my way_ , mused Hermione nastily. _She won't be able to say a thing at all._

Finally Hermione reached the twittering pair. The "Devil's mother" noticed her first. Her mouth fell open forming a "o" in shock. She was no idiot. She could tell from the hostility in Hermione's face that she heard enough. The assistant continued to chatter to her friend cluelessly.

Hermione reached out her right arm, grabbing the assistant by the shoulder. The assistant turned and finally acknowledged the girl in front of her. She gave Hermione a fake,simpering smile. Then with a sickening, sweet voice the assistant spoke,

"Oh Hermione! Darling! I'm so sorry for your loss." Then taking Hermione by the shoulders she look straight into her eyes. "If you ever need anything….anything at all, do not hesitate to come to me. Okay?"

Hermione was livid. Originally, Hermione was planing to tell the two women off but now all thoughts of settling this peacefully were out the window. Not able to take this anymore, Hermione let out a strangled, angry shriek and pounced.

* * *

"You're really lucky Mrs. Conner dropped the charges", Old lady Granger told Hermione. Holding a cotton ball drenched in alcohol in her hand, she dabbed the many cuts on her granddaughters face. Hermione said nothing, staring stonily at the wall of her bathroom. It had not been lucky at all.

Hermione already knew of the many undercover witches and wizards stationed all over Muggle London. She just didn't think there would be so many allies yet not a single one was around to save her parents. All it took to get rid of the charges were a few mind altering charms plus "obliviate". Hermione was then free to go.

"Hermione look at me ", ordered her grandmother. "You are normally much smarter than this. Honestly what on earth were you thinking?"

"You didn't hear what they said", Hermione bit out.

"That is still no excuse", snapped Old Lady Granger. Her eyes softened. "I'm just worried about you. This isn't normal. You aren't acting like yourself."

 _Like what_ Hermione thought bitterly. _Like the obedient , know-it-all brat that you all love?_ Instead she said, "It's just the shock Granny. I read about it in a book. It's normal."

"Hermione you almost clawed that poor woman's face off", Old Lady Granger exclaimed in disbelief. Hermione hid a sadistic grin. Grandma Granger sighed. "If you need to see someone, just tell me alright?"

Hermione said nothing.

"Alright?", Granny Granger said albeit louder.

"Yes Granny", Hermione said. Old Lady Granger patted her granddaughter's head affectionately. Hermione wrapped her arms around her grandmother.

"I'm ok Granny. I really am."

There was no way for Hermione to sleep that night. Despite feeling like her body was about to melt through the floorboards, her eyes stared upwards at the ceiling wide open. She hardly slept since she received the news. That was a week ago. She looked to her left at the alarm clock on the nightstand : 12:54 am. Well she was definitely not going to sleep anytime soon.

She wondered how things turned out so wrong so quickly. For a minute she could relate to how difficult Harry's life must be to lose loved ones all the time. He even lost another this year Hermione recalled, remember the loss of Sirius. He must be feeling even worse than me. The difference between them however was, unlike Harry, Hermione was warned. She knew that it would happen but was unable to do anything about it. A suffocating feeling of powerlessness overwhelmed her.

There is no point thinking what would happen if things were different Hermione reminded herself. The wizarding world didn't care about her and her tragedy. No, the wizarding world rejected people like her. People that were mudbloods. But, the one person who should have cared failed her realized Hermione. Shaking, the thought from her mind, Hermione tried once again to sleep.

* * *

Professor Firenze looked at the magically conjured constellation in his classroom. The centaur was listening to Dumbledore and Professor Mcgonagall debrief him on the preparations for the return of the school's students in a few weeks. A particular shining dot on the ceiling distracted him from the eccentric Headmaster's tittering.

"Mars is exceptionally bright tonight", the centaur said cutting off the Headmaster. Professor Mcgonagall sniffed in derision, fully prepared to reprimand Professor Firenze for his rudeness, but Dumbledore held out his left hand ,stopping her. He looked at her with that familiar twinkle in his eye. The stern-faced professor had no choice but to back off.

"What was it that you said Firenze?", asked Dumbledore kindly. After experiencing much in his life, the man knew better than two ignore divine premonitions.

"Mars is bright tonight. It tells of war."

Dumbledore figured that Firenze was speaking of the imminent threat of Voldemort. Nothing new then, he determined. Bidding the centaur a cheerful goodbye Professor Mcgonagall and he left Firenze all alone in his divination classroom. Firenze didn't move his gaze from the ceiling. He already knew that even a human with as much intellect as Dumbledore still wouldn't be able to interpret the future in the stars. Mars was bright that night, but oddly enough, so was Jupiter.


	2. Scene Two

Disclaimer: Belongs to J.K Rowling not me. Wish it did though!

* * *

"' _I assert our inalienable right to party._ ' I said that didn't I? Well dearie, parties end and so do the peace after the wars. Which is why I

retired!

I carried Wizard Britain through dark times but, I'm old now. It's time for the young to pick up the slack

because don't be fooled by the peace, dearie. It's only the calm

before the storm. I wish you luck. You're

going to need it."

\- Millicent Bagnold, Previous Minister of Magic (1980-1990) to Previous Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge upon

his successful campaign (1990)

* * *

"MINISTRY IS STRUCK A FATAL BLOW," were the words that greeted Hermione grimly as she sat down for breakfast, the Daily Prophet spread out before her.

To the horror of the wizarding world, one of the top Ministry officials was found in her home murdered. Amelia Bones Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was found killed the day before. Aurors have refused to comment on the ongoing investigation but suspect foul play. It is unsure wether or not the crime was committed by the newly organized terror group, the Death Eaters however officials are still suspicious. "We are simply stating that we cannot rule anything out at this point of the investigation," said Kingsley Shacklebot the now acting Head of the DMLE. (More on the life of Amelia Bones on page 3).

 _They really have started_ wondered Hermione as she took a sip of her morning tea. _The Death Eaters don't waste time, do they?_

Waking up to this awful news was not how she pictured her day to go. She remembered reading into Amelia Bones back when she was looking into the ministry. She was a formidable woman. Distinctly, Hermione remembered Harry mentioning Madam Bones to her. Said that she was present during his trial the year before and the owls. A good person he said. Hermione smiled bitterly. Well looks like being good didn't really help her out in the end.

Despite her surprising apathy towards the DMLE head's death, Hermione couldn't help but be disturbed. Why was she targeted? As far as she knew, Amelia Bones hadn't been a member of the Order. Shrugging the thought aside, the girl flipped a page.

"SINGLE WITCH FOUND DEAD IN HER HOME" The Prophet blasted out in front of her.

Miss Emmeline Vance was found dead in her home a few days ago. The investigation is still ongoing the aurors told the press. Death Eaters are also suspected in the crime along with plenty of others. "She was such a sweet lady," said her neighbour sobbing. "She never deserved this. Why would they go after her?" No one really knows why Miss Vance was killed, but the public is starting to be aware of a very disturbing pattern. With You-know-who's revival, deaths like Miss Vances's have been coming up. (To read about the press release turn to page 7).

Why indeed thought Hermione wryly folding the newspaper closed and pushing it aside. That was enough terrible news for one day. Of course, she knew why Miss Vance was targeted having seen her last year in the headquarters of the vigilante group devoted against the Death Eaters. Emmeline Vance was a member of the Order and it seems like her identity was compromised. Shouldn't be too hard to kill, single lady living alone—like Madam Bones.

The wizarding world was right in there being a disturbing pattern. This wouldn't be the last of the deaths. Miss Vance, Madam Bones, and her parents were only the first of a long string of casualties yet to come. Hermione closed her eyes painfully. She had yet to forget the mental trauma of hearing of her parents' murders even though it had been past a month already.

Old lady Granger had of course been so overbearing. If she wasn't constantly bothering Hermione by making her attend all sorts of social events with her friends, then the old lady was making sure that the girl had no time to herself. For some absurd reason, she was under the impression that Hermione was always on the verge of offing herself. If she was any more clingy she'd be following me to the loo.  
Which is why, Hermione had been looking forward for today for a long time. It was finally the day she would return to Hogwarts. And back to normalcy Hermione thought giddy. It wasn't that she didn't love her grandmother, it's just that if she didn't get the chance to spend time with herself and Hermione really missed herself (as strange as that sounds).

"Hermione," called out a stern voice. "You'll be late."

"Yes Gran," replied Hermione as she chugged down the last sips of her coffee. She scowled. Yes, she was looking forward for this day for ages.

Hermione heard the train before she saw it. As much as she hated to admit it, Grandma Granger had a point when she said that Hermione would be late. Dashing through families kissing their kids goodbye, Hermione left thought the barrier to platform 9 and 3/4 and into the train. To her relief, she managed to get on before the door closed. Sinking to the floor, the girl sat down tired from her physical excursion. This was the first time she was late she mused. Before her father would make sure to wake-

The familiar headache was beginning to form. She often forgotten during the past month that remembering them hurts. Especially when thinking of what her parents could have been doing had they not—passed. By this point just thinking in general hurt so Hermione leaned her head against the back of the wall next to the train doors. It didn't matter to her that she was still sitting on the ground. She had the entire train ride to find Harry and Ron. They could handle a couple months without her and they will handle a couple minutes more. Besides, it wasn't as if many people would be out on the hallways anyway. Closing her eyes, she could feel her migraine dissipating.

"Well, look who we have hear," drawled a grating voice. Hermione scowled, headache coming back in full force. Hello pain my old friend. "It's a wild mud blood." Laughter rang out after his subpar insult causing Hermione to be forced to open her eyes reluctantly. My isn't Draco Malfoy popular today. He brought more friends this time, goody. On either side of him were his ever present idiot bodyguards Crabbe and Goyle. To her surprise there were also two new faces accompanying him: Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. Was solitude before being thrown back to boarding school too much to ask for?

"Hello to you too," greeted Hermione back lightly. Really it was too early in the morning to start a fight and she was definitely not in the mood. Really, Hermione never understood why he insisted on bothering her and her friends every year on the train like some twisted ritual. Lazily, she sized up the boy in front of her. Whatever happened to Malfoy in the summer, it seemed to take a toll on him. His hair was not as well kept as before and his face was far too pale. Was his father's imprisonment that stressful to him? To be perfectly blunt, he looked worse than Hagrid's trodden-on, dead flobberworms not that she would say that to his face. Or maybe she would, she thought looking at his cocky smirk. She did hate the prick after all.

" It seems that it learned it's place over the summer," shrieked Pansy. Hermione winced at every word, piercing her mind like knives. Pansy mistakenly saw her silence as submission because she seemed to think it was a good idea to continue speaking. " What's the matter mudblood, kneazle got your tongue?"

Kneazle, clever thought Hermione before she answered, "No I was wondering when you would stop speaking. Honestly your voice sounds like a cat scratching its claws on a chalkboard right before it committed suicide. It's giving me a headache. Mind toning it down a bit, thanks." To her amazement, Pansy shut up. Looks like honesty was the best policy. Her relief was short-lived because once her jab sunk into the Slytherin girl's mind, Pansy made a point to shriek at her even more. Oh spoke too soon. Merlin, stop her please. She has the voice of a banshee.

"See my point exactly."

Zabini let loose a snigger but Hermione paid the Italian no mind being involved in her own thoughts. Like why were they still here? As far as she could tell, the other years Malfoy and his henchmen targeted Harry and left after a few minutes. In that span of time, they would rile up her friends enough for them to pull their wands out but not too much time that they got around to hexing each other. Judging by her watch it was way past that time frame. Hermione sighed. As much as she didn't want to it looks like she to get up.

"Granger."

But the floor was so comfortable.

"Granger."

Her eyelids were so heavy.

"Granger!"

Who even knows where Harry and Ron were sitting anyway?

"GRANGER," Malfoy bellowed finally getting her attention.

"What," Hermione snarled back to the group' surprise. Even Crabbe and Goyle stepped back from her sudden show of aggression.

Any person with common sense would know better than to argue the witch further especially one who had been punched in the face by her in third year. Malfoys however were not known for their common sense and this one just bristled in anger. " How dare you." The boy sputtered; shuddering with rage. "Ignore me—you a mere filthy mud blood —ignore me someone of superior genes."

Hermione snorted. "Genes, please. What do you know of genes you inbred, defective waste of space." You could hear a pin drop from the resulting reactions to her statement. The Slytherins all stood gaping at her. The inbreeding between purebloods was a taboo not even the bravest Gryffindor dared cross. Seeing their shock as an opportunity to escape, Hermione leisurely gathered her things and made her way down the hall. Taking out her wand, she gave a sight swish and muttered ,"Protego", reflecting the curse that Malfoy flung towards her in rage hitting him back, square in his smug face. The last thing she heard before opening one of the compartment doors was the sound of Zabini guffawing loudly behind her and Pansy shrieking in rage. Looks like it would be yet another normal year in Hogwarts.

Harry and Ron were concerned. Hermione hadn't met up with them at the station. In fact Ron's ears were reddening at such an alarming rate from sheer worry that Harry thought his head would explode. Not that Harry could say much better of himself. Between Sirius's death, the Grangers', and the news of other Death Eater attacks all over the wizarding world, it comes as no surprise that he too was paranoid. It truly was trying times if Mad Eye Moody seemed to act more sensible than most people they knew. _Next I'll accidentally set the Dursleys on fire if they so much as startle me_ Harry mused. He grinned. Excellent, now I have an excuse.

"Harry mate, you're grinning maniacally again, " remarked Ron as he ordered his knight across the board. Harry quickly schooled his expression. To his embarrassment, he had been getting that a lot from people lately—namely the Dursleys but, they thought he was the devil's spawn regardless of his actions.

"Drat," Harry exclaimed as Ron intercepted his bishop and took it out of the board. He was absolutely horrid in this game and Ron knew it.

Ron chose that time to eloquently ask the question that had been on their mind for the past half hour.  
"Where in Merlin's saggy beard in Hermione?"

"I don't know," replied Harry as he prodded his knight forward. That was a mistake because Ron didn't even have to look at the board to decimate the knight with a hidden pawn. Darn cursed Harry.

"It's not like her to be so late, " Ron argued. "Other times its," Ron mimicked a high falsetto," Oh Ron, don't you know better than to be tardy all the time. And all that bull."

"All that what," Hermione asked sweetly as she slammed the compartment door open and slid in. To her glee she saw her friend pale at being caught badmouthing her. Good fear me.

"There you are," Harry greeted cheerfully. He stood up to give Hermione a hug and returned to his seat. "What took you so long?"

"Got cornered by Malfoy."

"What," yelled Ron looking ready to start a fight. With undisguised rage he dove for his trunk to get his wand, but Hermione grabbed his arm before he could fly out the door. Even Harry was about to grab his wand.

"Relax," she said rolling her eyes. " I told him to sod off and hit him with his own curse." Harry hummed win approval and sank back into his seat. Ron on the other hand was filled with emotion.  
"Atta girl 'Mione," he blubbered between proud sobs. After calming the Weasley down, Hermione took the chance to finally get comfortable for the rest of the train ride.

A couple of hours passed and the witch was steadily getting annoyed with all the looks her scarred friend was giving her. Not only that but every time he did, Harry would open his mouth as if about to say something but decided not to. He kept doing that for the past fifteen minutes and it was driving Hermione absolutely bonkers.

"Just spit it out," she bellowed unable to take it anymore. Harry widened his eyes at her sudden outburst before mumbling, "Nothing."

"Harry,I know for a fact that whenever you are hiding something that you rub your scar." Ron looked at the pair curiously, that was news to him.

"I don't," Harry argued.

"Look you're doing it right now." Harry looked up to see that he was indeed rubbing his scar. Damn.

"She got you there mate," Ron interjected unhelpfully.

"Thank you Ron," Hermione politely added.

"Yeah thanks Ron," Harry added sarcastically. To his annoyance, Ron just grinned. The witch turned back to Harry leveling her best Mcgonagall glare at the boy. Harry sighed finally relenting.

"I just wanted to know how you're holding up —after what happened."

No one in the compartment spoke a word. Harry knew that this was still a sore subject for the girl; only a month had passed after all. Even for him after two months, Sirius's death was still a fresh wound in his heart. Of course the girl wasn't fine any fool could see that. Hermione looked like she regretted making Harry say what he did.

Hermione on the other hand knew that she had to reassure her friends otherwise it would be like living with Grandma Granger all over again. "I'm doing alright. The shock of it left but I'm doing fine. No need to worry." She knew she was telling a bold faced lie but…

Ron looked completely convinced having relaxed back into his seat. Harry frowned in disbelief but decided not to press further. If she felt anywhere near how he feels about Sirius's death than Harry knew that Hermione was a mess.

"What about you," Hermione asked suddenly.

"What about me?"

"After Sirius—how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," Harry responded before rubbing his eyes with his hands tiredly. "You know Dumbledore visited me during the summer before taking me to Ron's."

"Yeah he did," Ron added.

"Well right before," Harry continued. " He told me about the inheritance Sirius left me."

Hermione questioned, " How much?"

"Everything apparently including the headquarters."

Ron whistled. "You're pretty well off then considering that he is one of the last members of the house of Black him being lord and all." Seeing Harry's expression, Ron determined that Harry didn't care for any of that.

"Look," Ron began. "We will avenge Sirius. Your parents. Everyone. With Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix the dark side won't win." The Order Hermione thought with a pang. Somehow she was doubtful about their chances against the snake lord.

Ron stared at his friends' eyes determinedly. This time it was Hermione who broke the silence.

"Ron."

"Yes 'Mione?"

"You have dirt on your nose again."

"Damn."

* * *

The sun was setting by the time the Hogwarts Express reached its final half hour stretch towards the castle that was just appearing at the edge of the horizon. Hermione was lying across her seat again content. Finally I can study again. And this time I got prefect duties to …wait prefect?

Hermione shot up from her seat yelling, "RON". Harry who had been reading his Defence against the Dark Arts book looked up at the two.

An unlucky Ron who had been dozing shot up and hit his head on the glass window of the train before rolling on the ground in apparent pain. "What the hell was that for Hermione," he cried our glaring at his friend.

"You idiot! We forgot to sit in the prefect compartment "

"Is that it?" Ron settle back into his seat. "Don't worry no one will care if we go. Malfoy misses them all the time and no one gives a toss."

"But as prefects, our job is to set a good example", Hermione hissed. Grabbing her prefect badge, she quickly pinned it on herself before reaching for Ron's collar and dragging him out the compartment door.

"Harry mate save me", he cried out but to his disappointment, Harry just gave him a mock salute and a grin practically screaming payback.

Hermione snapped , "Oh be quiet." Turning to Harry she said, "Later then." The compartment door slid shut behind them. Harry smiled, it seemed that Hermione hadn't changed at all. But, he couldn't shake that uneasy feeling inside him. Before when Hermione asked him about Sirius he noticed she had a peculiar dark look on her face. Harry recognized that look. _Because it looked so much like mine he thought and looking like me is not a good thing._

* * *

Harry was absolutely not stalking Draco Malfoy. He definitely did not take advantage of Hermione and Ron not being around him. The invisibility cloak was most definitely not covering him as he quietly entered the Slytherin compartment after following Zabini when he was coming back from who knows where. Torturing first years probably. Harry hadn't told Hermione yet but when visiting Diagon Alley with Ron, he met with Malfoy and followed him to Knockturn Alley towards Burgin and Burkes where he had been trying to buy a dark artifact. Harry was fully convinced that the prick became a Death Eater. Well time to find out.

Inside, Harry was instantly greeted with Malfoy getting cosy with Parkinson. _Ick._ Choosing a corner to squat at, Harry crouched quietly not daring to make a sound. Zabini and Parkinson began complaining loudly about blood traitors. _Merlin do they talk about nothing else_ Harry asked himself. L _ike a group of blood obsessed vampires._

"The dark lord had trusted me with an assignment", Malfoy said not breaking eye contact with the ceiling as he lay on Parkinson's lap. Parkinson gasped girlishly.

Zabini snorted,"The dark lord would trust you with an assignment. You who isn't even sixteen.". Malfoy glared at the dark-skinned boy.

"The Dark Lord doesn't care", Malfoy said. "He wants an important job done and deemed me worthy to complete it." Harry's mouth gaped open behind the invisibility cloak. He admitted he was a Death Eater. He couldn't help but smile victoriously before realizing where he was at the moment. Harry looked around the compartment. Just how as he going to leave to tell one of the Order the news?

"We're here," called a gruff voice. Everyone turned towards Crabbe who had spoken. Harry forgot about the two brute's presences. Harry frowned worriedly. Escaping just got harder. Harry slowly tip toed toward the door deciding just to make a run for it. Goyle who had been reaching for his luggage on the luggage rack accidentally dropped the suitcase which smacked Harry across the face. His trainers showed briefly before he hastily covered himself with the cloak. He never noticed Malfoy's eyes widen.

"What the," exclaimed Goyle dumbly before grabbing his suit case and leaving the compartment with Crabbe. Zabini followed next. Parkinson stayed behind wanting to wait for Draco and stood by the door.

"No go on ahead,Pansy. There is something I need to do," Malfoy told her quietly. Nodding slightly, Parkinson left closing the compartment door behind her. Harry mentally sighed in relief. I was almost caught. He turned towards a bent Malfoy who was rummaging in his luggage. Harry scowled. Leave too dammit.

Harry closed his eyes in annoyance for a second before opening them only to stare at the other end of Malfoy's wand.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Harry became paralyzed and could only watch in horror as Malfoy removed his Invisibility cloak, no expression evident on his face. "I knew you were there Potter", Malfoy said softly. "Well, its not like you heard anything I would care about , but since you are here…"

Malfoy brought his foot up and stamped hard on Harry's nose breaking it. A small smirk graced his features as he covered Harry with his invisibility cloak. "That was for me and my family. Well looks like no one is going to find you for a while. Cheers Potter."

On that happy note, Malfoy took his time grabbing his things and leaving the compartment. _Merlin I'm an idiot_ Harry thought as he lay helpless on the compartment floor struggling helplessly before giving up.

 _That bloody git._

* * *

Hermione and Ron were concerned. Very concerned. Harry hadn't shown up for the opening banquet feast yet. The Head boy and girl were quite forgiving when the Gryffindor prefects arrived late. After a brief meeting, they arrived at the castle int the prefect carriages and promptly sat at the Gryffindor table waiting for their dark-haired friend to arrive. The sorting had already been over for five minutes with the sorting hat singing about something about inter house unity—again. Turning to Ron who had been glaring in the Slytherin's direction suspiciously Hermione couldn't help but think, Yeah no way is that going to happen. She looked towards the head table where Dumbledore was sitting.

The old man was gazing serenely at the students. _Shouldn't he be panicking,_ wondered Hermione. After all Harry was missing. Noticing the empty seat to the right of Dumbledore, Hermione frowned in confusion. Snape was missing too?

Just then the doors to giant doors of the Great Hall blasted open and in came forth an angry Professor Snape, robes billowing behind him. Behind him strode Harry awkwardly, looking embarrassed more than anything else. Hermione widened her eyes in horror. Harry was holding a cloth on his nose, blood staining through it.

"Blimey," spat out a incredulous Ron. Harry smiled sheepishly at them and took the seat beside Ron. Snape had taken his seat beside Dumbledore before whispering something to the old man's ear. He turned his black eyes towards the trio, curled his lip in disgust and whispered something else to Dumbledore. The old man merely looked through his half-moon glasses before beaming at them.

Harry snapped his fingers, getting Ron's and Hermione's attention. "I think Malfoy is a Death Eater", he whispered harshly. There was a resounding thud as Ron smacked his head on the table, barely missing the food that were just conjured by the Hogwart's house elves.

"Not this nonsense again,"Ron moaned.

"This time I heard him say it himself. Said the 'Dark Lord' gave him a job", Harry argued.

"He was faking mate"

"I agree with Ron, Malfoy likes to brag," Neville who had been listening to the conversation added. Ron looked at him gratefully. "What do you think, Hermione," asked Neville.

Hermione's mind went blank. _What I think?_ Before, the answer would have been simple. There was no way Voldemort would recruit a sixteen year old into his dark forces and do it without Dumbledore's knowledge, but , before Hermione didn't think he would ever target her parents. Now, she wasn't so sure. _We really can't rule out anything anymore_ she realized to her dismay. But to admit that makes it real—

"Hermione?"

Hermione turned her head toward Ron. Ron looked at her back with concern. _Drat, I was lost in my thoughts again_. Raising her voice she said with confidence,

"Of course, there is no way he could be one. He's too young to be useful to You Know Who. You should know that Harry." Though, she knew she said that mostly to convince herself.

Harry just looked back at her with one eyebrow raised. He didn't miss the slight pause in Hermione's response. _Which means its a possibility_ he thought smugly. Even she thinks so. He glanced over at the Slytherin table where he immediately noticed Malfoy who was miming breaking Harry's nose to a small audience. Harry scowled. _Git._

"Well of to bed you trot," trilled a serene Dumbledore before he disappeared to who knows where. Yawning widely, Hermione was just looking forward to getting some well deserved sleep when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Quickly turning her head, she saw that her accosted was non other than Professor Mcgnagall.

"Miss Granger," the professor said softly. "The Headmaster would like to meet you in his office." Hermione was baffled. Why would Dumbledore wish to see her? Her parents popped into her mind but she quickly dismissed it. Many children were steadily becoming orphans after you-know-who's return. It's not like the headmaster could meet all of them personally. Despite her confusion as to why she was being called, Hermione followed her Transfiguration teacher up the floors towards the Headmaster's office. The familiar stone gargoyle stood stoically, blocking intruders from entering.

"Password," it grunted.

"Gum drops," Professor Mcgnagall called out.

Hermione couldn't help but raise her eyebrows at the Headmaster's questionable choice of a password. The gargoyle said not another word as it slid aside revealing the moving stairs not unlike an escalator that lead towards the office. Without hesitation, Hermione stepped on.

* * *

Dumbledore's office never failed to amaze Hermione every time she entered. The many books that lay untouched on the shelves and magical objects that were everywhere never failed to make her gasp in surprise. The wizened old man himself sat behind the table where the most complex magical instruments were placed. The phoenix Fawkes stood on his perch almost reaching his prime. Fawkes trilled at Hermione in greeting. Hermione noticed the piece of paper that she had given to the Headmaster at the beginning of the summer remaining at the same spot where he had placed it.  
Hermione clenched her fists. The small sheet of paper was the reason for all her suffering.

"Would you like some tea, " The old man offered kindly. Hermione shook her head dumbly. What she wanted was to get this meeting over with so she could sleep. Of course there was no way she would have the guts to say this to the greatest wizard of the age.

The smile on the old man' face never wavered. Instead he merely lazily flicked his wand conjuring himself a glass of pumpkin juice. The scent of shredded pumpkin pulp wafted through the room, lulling Hermione with the familiar scent of meals int the Great Hall. She unconsciously began smiling herself. Another reason why she loved Dumbledore's office, it always made her feel so relaxed.

"Miss Granger."

Hermione snapped out of her thoughts. Dumbledore looked back at her her expression mournful. "How are you feeling?"

So he was asking about her parents. Annoyance built up in the witch but she knew better than to let it show. She would be feeling much better if people just left her alone.

"I'm doing fine," she replied deceptively calm.

"I wish to apologize to you."Dumbledore bowed his head unwilling to meet with her eyes. "The Dark side have succeeded in once again taking our loved ones away from us. I failed you child. Like I failed so many others." He looked straight into Hermione's eyes, his own brimming with unshed tears. "I was unable to foresee the event that came to pass and for that I am deeply sorry."

What is he talking about? Hermione was numb with shock. Unable to foresee? He knew! He was warned that her parents were being targeted. She was warned. "I told you about the letter," Hermione said slowly. "The threat I received a few months ago?"

To her horror, there was no indication of recognition not the Headmasters face. Dumbledore looked absolutely baffled. "Miss Granger what letter are you talking about?" _Was he joking?_

"This one," she all but screamed. She gestured widely towards where she saw it lay on his desk. " That one. Look I gave it to you. It's right there on your desk. You knew!"

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore interrupted slowly. "What letter?"

Hermione's head flew towards where she saw the letter. There was nothing there. All of a sudden the scent of pumpkin juice and the strong gaze of the Headmaster began to make her feel lightheaded. Where was it?

"Sometimes, when one undergoes a great tragedy, one starts to remember things differently." the wizard said not breaking eye contact. Hermione felt her head throb.

 _It was right there._

"No, I remember quite clearly. It was there but, now its gone…," Hermione trailed off unsure of what she was saying anymore. The scent was making her feel sick and her brain felt like jelly. She barely noticed the Headmaster looking back at her, concern evident on his face.

 _It was on this desk._

"Perhaps, you should visit Poppy," he advised.

 _Did I imagine it then? No, I couldn't have._

Hermione composed herself, "No it's quite alright. I must have remembered things wrong. The shock of everything got to me." Of course she didn't believe that she was just imaging thing but, something told her to agree with whatever the man said. The wizard himself instantly relaxed into his seat after her words.

"Its getting late and I'm sure you're tired," Dumbledore said. "Off to bed you go."

"Goodnight Headmaster."

"Goodnight Miss Granger."

—  
Three months ago:

Hermione rushed towards the Headmaster's office in a frantic manner. She ran towards the gargoyle stopping to say the password.

"Sugar Quills", she yelled and then she rushed up the magical steps before entering the office.

"Headmaster!"

Dumbledore looked up from the magical instruments on his desk, startled. "What ever is the matter Miss Granger."

"Today. At the owlery. Strange note," she blabbered breathless. Dumbledore waited patiently for her to compose herself. Hermione tried again, " I was just at the owlery when I received this" She held out the note for Dumbledore to read. When he did his expression turned grave.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes the Death Eaters sent me a death threat telling me that they were going to kill my 'mudblood' parents."

"You haven't told Harry and yet?"

"No. I haven't. I decided to go straight to you"

Dumbledore leaned back into his chair, folding his hands over his lap. "That is good. Tell no one of the letter. It is what Voldemort no doubt wishes for us to do."

Hermione winced at Voldemort's name and was still worried. Dumbledore softened his gaze. "Rest assured Miss Granger, we will do our protect your parents. It was a good thing to tell me." He placed the letter on his desk before bidding Hermione good bye. Hermione never forgot the relief she felt at that moment.

-  
Hermione walked down the floors towards the Gryffindor tower. Multiple thoughts were rushing through her head. None of what had happened made any sense. The Death Eaters had sent her a death threat for her parents telling exactly what they would do to them. She definitely informed Dumbledore. There was no way to remember things differently. Could it be that he was right and she had imagined the whole thing? Part of her mind agreed urging her to just trust in the Headmaster. Suddenly the lightheadedness she felt from before returned.

 _No_ , she determined shaking the feeling from her mind. She remembered it clearly. Hermione just couldn't understand why she had been lied to. It made no implied the dangerous idea that Dumbledore allowed her parents to die. But why? All the pieces rushed into her head. Her parents deaths, Amelia Bones's murder, Malfoy being a death eater, Dumbledore lying. "I failed you child. Like I failed so many others", he said. _What did that mean?_ Hermione shivered but not from the cold. Oh, she really didn't like the ideas she was beginning to picture in her mind right now but, if she was right and her parents' murders were purposely ignored by the side of the light then— No. She shouldn't draw conclusions yet. First she needed proof.


	3. Scene Three

Disclaimer: Not my story. If it was I'd be rich.

* * *

"You can never hide the truth. Certain people think that by keeping a tight leash on what gets

published in my paper that their dirty little secrets will be safe but, they're just fooling themselves. All it takes is one reporter to make everything come crashing down. People don't like a corrupt leader but no one likes one that lies and that's what censorship is:

A lie"

\- Barnabas Cuffe, _Editor-In-Chief_ of the _Daily Prophet_

* * *

As expected, Hermione was unable to sleep that night. After breakfast in the Great Hall, the girl sneaked away from her friends and headed directly for the library. Her heart was pounding like a drum as she marched towards her favourite spot in the school, eyes flittering left and right, looking for any sign of people she knew. While she knew many other students skipped classes on the first day, this was the first time she was doing it. The sheer adrenaline of it was making her blood pump through her veins. Hopefully they wouldn't miss her much in Runes. Luckily for her, Professor Script never seemed to mind missing students much.

Eventually, she reached the large oak doors of the library. With care, Hermione pushed them aside and walked purposefully past Madam Pince, who was behind her desk reading a book. As far as the librarian knew, Hermione had a free block and was spending her time innocently studying. However, today she walked past her usual spot near the centre of the history shelves and instead headed straight for the seldom-visited shelves in the back where the dust was thickest.

Today it was the Archives she wanted. Her encounter with the Headmaster was just too strange to ignore. Hermione had little doubt that the old man was lying but if this was his first time purposely letting innocent people die, wouldn't he act more guilty? Instead, he called her over immediately upon her arrival to coax her back to his guidance. And there was the thing he said to her, " _I failed you child, like I failed so many others."_ Really! Dumbledore obviously underestimated her. Did he think Hermione wouldn't have caught that slip? If it was Harry and Ron they probably would have missed it, but the witch noticed the strange expression on aged face; his was the look of a man with multiple sins on his back. Just how much blood was on his hands?

Hermione reached the shelf labeled _Daily Prophet_. Here was the collection of all the Daily Prophet dating as far back as 1734. Here was where Hermione would be able to research exactly what happened during the first Wizard War. Reaching her arm out, she called out,"First Wizarding War of the modern era."

Out floated about fifty issues of the Daily Prophet that gently rested into her waiting arms. Hermione grunted from the weight but carried them quickly to a waiting table near the shelves. Dropping with them with a thud on the surface made the once stagnant dust shoot upwards, making her sneeze and startling the portrait behind her. He gave a yelp. Ignoring the painted man, Hermione read the first headline:

 _"New Dark Lord Arrives To Conquer Wizarding World."_

 _The new Dark Lord behind the most recent attacks against muggles can now be named. Lord Grindelwald, sources say…_

 _Huh._ Hermione gaped at the unfamiliar name. This wasn't what she expected. Looking at the date, she noticed that it said 1930 rather than 1970. Vaguely, she recalled the name somewhere. Reaching to the bottom of the pile she had summoned, Hermione pulled out the last issue given to her.

 _"Dark Lord Grindelwald Defeated By Rising Star" (1945)_

 _Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, said to be becoming the most powerful wizard of the age, defeated the previously thought to be invincible Gellert Grindelwald. In a fierce battle spanning half a day, Dumbledore managed to best the Lord through sheer willpower. "It was nothing like I've ever seen before," says an astounded Auror. "By the time we reached the scene, it was over. Grindelwald lay defeated on the floor." Yes, my dear readers, this man ended what was a hard fifteen years for the wizarding world._

 _Ah... now I remember, it was on his chocolate frog card,_ Hermione realized. Along with the clue that helped solved the mystery of the Philosopher's Stone, Dumbledore's victory against the previous Dark Lord was also mentioned. That was all they knew of their Headmaster. All the information they had on Dumbledore was written on a childrens' collectable and the fact that he founded the Order of the Phoenix. The statement that the man was the greatest wizard of the age was told, yet not explained in any paper including his battle with Grindelwald. Wouldn't it have been better to explain to Harry how to defeat a Dark Lord, since he had already done so himself? Why was this never brought up?

Deciding that before she delved in the second Wizard War she would look into Dumbledore, she summoned all issues of him after 1945 and marvelled at the incredible stack that came.

 _"Dumbledore Gains Order of Merlin First Class for Defeating Dark Lord Grindelwald." (1945)_

 _"Dumbledore Is Voted Chief Warlock in Wizengamot." (1950)_

 _"Dippet Steps Down; Dumbledore is Headmaster." (1956)_

 _"Unanimous Vote Appoints Dumbledore as New Chairman of International Confederation of Wizards." (1963)_

 _"Could Dumbledore Become the Next Minister of Magic?" (1965)_

The issues listed the many great things the man had achieved. Chief Warlock to Chairman of the ICW; it was just outstanding the places Dumbledore reached in just two decades. However, Hermione couldn't help but notice a pattern: there was hardly any news about the Headmaster discovering anything save for the twelve uses of dragon's blood, which was strange considering that the old man was normally portrayed as a scholar. From what she could tell from the issues, the man was more of a politician than anything else.

 _Should one man be really allowed to handle that much power?_ wondered Hermione. Remembering what she actually came for, the witch banished the articles back to their humble abodes. This time, she summoned "Casualties of the Second Wizard War."

To her shock, an even bigger pile appeared. On the first one, Hermione just saw a list spanning pages of all the people killed. The date read 1981, the year Harry first defeated the dark lord.

 _"A Tribute to All Those That Passed,"_ read the headline.

 _Lord and Lady Bones (1981)_

 _Edgar Bones (1981)_

 _Marlene McKinnon (1981)_

 _Dorcas Meadows (1981)_

 _Gideon Prewett & Fabian Prewett (1981)_

No other news was written in the issue. That's how long it was. No one really talked about the people who died in the war. Though now she could tell it affected everybody. To her surprise, not many muggleborns were mentioned by names. They most likely fled when the Death Eaters came out. Most of the dead belonged to pureblood families or were at least half blood. Kind of ironic that the blood you-know-who cherished so much was spilled during his crusade.

Another name caught Hermione's eye:

 _Peter Pettigrew (1981)_

Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust. Of course, how could she forget? This article was printed when they still thought the rat wasn't a death eater, before they found out that they sent an innocent man to jail. Speaking of Sirius, looking into the articles she had, there was no mention of any trial anywhere. In the later issues many of the Death Eaters were at least given a hearing, but in Sirius's case he was carted off straight for Azkaban. She tried to summon Daily Prophet articles on the Black trial and as expected came up with nothing. Surely Dumbledore would have known that he should have at least pressed for a trial to discover what really happened in the Potter murders? Looks like the witch would have to look into that case later. She looked at the next issue.

 _"Longbottoms Tortured to Insanity by Fleeing Death Eaters; Bellatrix Lestrange Finally Captured"_

 _Just mere days since He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was defeated by a young Harry Potter, the Longbottoms were sought out by Death Eater fugitives in the dead of night. Aurors arrived quickly to the scene but it was too late. Frank and Alice Longbottom were hit with multiple shots of the Cruciatius curse. Twelve Aurors died in the fight but in the end Bellatrix Lestrange, the Lestrange brothers, and Barty Crouch's son were taken into custody. While it is amazing news for the wizarding community, the same cannot be said for the Longbottoms as the Healers are doubtful that they will ever make a full recovery. Public outrage raged out in the streets after the once favourite candidate for Minister of Magic turned out to have a dark son. Could this be the end Barty Crouch's ministry campaign? (More on the Crouch's on page 8)_

The clock ticked on as Hermione pored over all details of the war the newspaper had to offer. She noticed that with the exception of the McKinnons, all the other pureblood families that were wiped out had at least one survivor. The Prewetts which she thought were completely destroyed, had Molly Weasley as the sole survivor. Even the Bones, though Madam Bones was now gone, still has Susan from Hufflepuff. The Death Eaters on the other hand were still alive. There seemed to be more casualties on the Order side then any other. Could this be what Dumbledore meant when he said he failed? That he was a terrible military leader? No, Hermione doubted that was answer. To her disappointment, Hermione found that she was no closer to figuring out the hidden meaning behind the Headmaster's words than before.

"Miss Granger," called out a scratchy, irritated voice. Hermione recognized it very well and she turned reluctantly to face the stern face of the librarian. "Do I need to _yet again_ remind you of the rules?"

Hermione bowed her head in shame. As usual, she got carried away again. After the years of researching things constantly to help Harry with his adventures every year, Madam Pince had got familiar with the girl's habits. She didn't think it would be this easy to find her since she changed spots.

"Out of the library," Madam Pince ordered. "Out! It's lunch and I don't want to miss it because I need to watch over you all the time." Obediently, Hermione gathered her things and left. Well, she needed to attend her afternoon classes anyway. She'd just have to come back tomorrow. Hermione never noticed the painted man frown as he watched her leave and then slide out of his frame.

* * *

Stepping into the Arithmancy room, Hermione hesitated before choosing a seat at the back. Normally, she would sit at the front but honestly it was way too late in the day to bring attention to herself now. The class could survive without her answering all the questions anyway. She glanced at the clock with the magic circled design above the blackboard. 4:30 pm. Looks like she really had come too early. Maybe she should have skipped this class too. Not knowing how else to spend her time, she took out her textbook and began to memorize the notes within.

Slowly the other students began to file into the class. Among them was one of her house mates, Dean Thomas. Dean catching her eye, eagerly made his way over to where she sat and took a seat beside her. "Glad you were still taking this course."

"Of course," Hermione scoffed. Did he really think she wouldn't? Dean was her faithful partner in all the years they took Arithmancy together. At first it surprised her that the boy enjoyed doing math but ever since she welcomed his presence. He was good at it.

"Missed you in Runes," he said looking at her curiously. "Needed to go to the Hospital wing or something?"

"Didn't feel like going," she replied dismissively. "Everyone skips the first day anyways." Personally, Hermione didn't think it was a big deal but looking at Dean's face, the boy looked like she said that the dragons were vegetarians. _Really_ she huffed to herself, _it's like they think I worship school or something._

"Yes Dean, I skipped class," she said dryly to his gaping face.

"To do what," he asked eagerly. Hermione groaned inside. She forgot how much of a giant gossip the boy was. So much for quietly researching; the news would spread to the rest of the house by 5:00.

Luckily, she didn't have to answer his question when Professor Vector decided to begin the roll call.

"Abbot, Hannah," Professor Vector called out cheerfully.

"Present." replied Hannah.

Hermione began to zone out after her name was called. It was hard to concentrate when she was so focused on ignoring the curious glances Dean continued to give her.

"Malfoy, Draco." That name caught Hermione's attention as she turned to the pale-haired prat sitting a few seat away. He still looked awful. _Now that I think about it_ Hermione mused, _the stress could also be because he is a Death Eater._ Ever since Harry suggested that the Slytherin was in fact a murderer in the making, Hermione couldn't convince herself otherwise. She narrowed her eyes. If that were true, what mission could you-know-who have given him? To kill Harry? No he would want to do that himself. To kill her? Ron? If he was a Death Eater, who else might be? It could be anyone. Seamus. Crabbe and Goyle. Goldstein never liked Harry. He could be one too. What about Luna? Was the crazy talk just an act?

Or perhaps—

Someone tapped her on the shoulder wrenching her from her thoughts. It was Dean. He looked at her with obvious worry hiding out a parchment with a magic circle etched onto it. _Ugh It's Solomonic Magic circles_ Hermione grumbled. Unfortunately, drawing was not her strong point and one of the questions given asked for the students to draw one. Reluctantly, she quickly drew a sad scribble that she hoped was good enough to pass. Dean took one look at the circled mess that was her drawing and coughed loudly, trying to hold back his laughter. Hermione reached for her wand; _pink would suit his hair quite nicely!_

"Alright class," interrupted Professor Vector. _Just when I remembered the curse too..._ thought Hermione darkly, glaring at her desk mate. Dean sat blissfully unaware of the lucky break he had just received. "Can anyone tell me where to draw the Solomonic conjuration circle when summoning a spirit?"

Everyone sat relaxed in their seats waiting for a certain someone to raise their hand. They knew that there was no need to participate with Hermione Granger around. However, Hermione herself seemed equally as keen to keep her mouth shut and instead continued to attempt to salvage the wreckage that was her drawing. After a couple minutes, she gave up seeing that the magic circle resembled less of a circle than before. _It resembles more like a Niffler's armpits,_ she thought. As she crumpled the parchment angrily, Hermione noticed that there was an uncomfortable and eerie silence. _That was strange, I could have sworn Professor Vector was still teaching_.

Suddenly she realized that everyone had been staring at her. Even Professor Vector looked at her questionably. _Ah,_ _they're waiting for me to answer._ She furrowed her brows. Sure, the question was simple, but must they always expect her answer everything?

Professor Vector broke the silence, "Miss Granger do you know the answer?"

"No," Hermione replied flatly before trying to draw the circle again. _Ok! First draw the outer body..._ Whispers broke out in the class as everyone looked at the Gryffindor witch. Even Malfoy looked at her in confusion. If the whispers bothered her, Hermione never showed it as she tried to focus on her assignment.

"Well if —um no one knows, then I'll just tell you," Professor Vector cut in lamely. Taking a moment to compose herself, she went back to her controlled self. "The Solomonic Magic Circle is to be drawn on the floor because you are trying to conjure the spirits of the earth. Remember that, that connection between circle and earth is very important."

The class continued without much excitement afterward but Dean noticed something _really_ interesting. Throughout the rest of the class, Hermione's gaze never wavered. It was firmly fixed on the back of budding Death Eater, Draco Malfoy.

* * *

"I'm telling you man, something's off with Hermione," Dean whispered harshly to Harry as they plotted Saturn's moons on their astrology maps. They had been sitting on the floor looking out of the Astronomy Tower. Harry shot a skeptical glance at his friend before looking over his map. _Hmm Rhea should be around here._ Dean began wringing his hands in panic. "She's acting battier than Loony!"

Harry recalled all the moments the bushy-haired witch acted in odd ways: her strange obsession with grades, her strange obsession with liberating House elves, and her admittedly quite abnormal obsession with following the rules. _The girl has a lot of quirks doesn't she?_

"Look, she usually is a bit mad with all the studying and that sort of thing, but..."

Harry looked. All he saw was his dorm mate acting crazier than he claimed Hermione was. After dotting the spot where Hyperion was located on his map he spoke,

"Well, out with it."

Dean looked relieved now that he was finally being taken seriously. His eyes darted around the tower suspiciously in case there was anyone around to hear. This was serious news after all. Taking a deep breath he confessed,

"Hermione refused to answer a question."

"So what?" Harry challenged. There were plenty of times Hermione didn't answer a question. Most of the time because she was already studying ahead of everyone else and didn't want to stop or when Snape was feeling particularly snarky some days and _willed_ her to shut up. _With a glare_ Harry thought with a shudder.

Dean held up his finger. "Wait, let me finish first." Taking a deep breath he continued, "She also skipped class."

The resulting thud of the metal telescope and Dean's screams could be heard all the way from the Astronomy Tower to Hagrid's hut.

* * *

"Tell me exactly what happened," Harry demanded shoving Dean inside a room and closing the door behind them.

"No bloody way, you prick," Dean sputtered out between tears. He was clutching his left foot in sheer agony. Looking around he noticed stalls and a row of sinks present.

"Are we in the girl's bathroom? I thought you were taking me to the infirmary, you nutter." He limped his way to one of the broken sinks, steadying himself as he overcame another wave of pain.

Harry just rolled his eyes. "Oh just deal with it."

"Deal with it?" Dean looked at him incredulously. "You dropped a ten-ton telescope on my foot. Look! There's blood!"

"Yes, I'm sorry now-could you get on with what you were telling me, please?"

Dean just ignored him and sank to the floor, closing his eyes as the wave of pain began to subside. "This is Moaning Myrtle's bathroom ain't it?"

"Yeah we're lucky she isn't in. Now spit it out."

"She skipped Runes," Dean said. "Said something about skipping 'cause everyone else did it. Which is true. I wanted to skip as well, but Ginny snuck in there and you know Professor Vector, he don't give a damn. It's the only place we can hang out without Ron bothering us, you know?"

"And the questions?" asked Harry.

Dean nodded his head dumbly. "Yeah, we were at Arithmancy. None of the other blokes would join me because of math and all. I tried to get Ginny to join me but she was more interested in duelling instead. Shame really."

Harry smacked him on the head.

"Ow." Dean glared at the scarred boy furiously. Harry was not impressed.

"We don't have all day."

"Okay, Jesus. Well, Hermione was my desk mate like always. She seemed out of it, you know, just doodling some crappy drawing for the homework assignment. Girl can't draw Solomonic Magic circles to save her lif-"

"Dean," Harry interrupted holding his wand up warningly.

"My bad. What was I talking about again?"

"Hermione's state of mind."

Dean's face brightened. "Yeah, I was. Well back to the topic. She was acting weird, man. The prof asked an easy question too. We all knew the answer, but everyone usually waits for Hermione to answer. You know force of habit, but get this, _she didn't!_ "

Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"And then we all waited for her to do something. She just did nothing. The prof called on her and you know what she said? I don't know!"

"What?"

"Yeah, I ain't kidding. Everyone's jaws dropped to the floor. Like we all knew she knew, but Hermione Granger: resident teacher's pet, purposely refusing to answer a professor's question? That's crazy, man."

Knowing the kind of person Hermione was Harry couldn't help but agree, but when he thought about it, Hermione's actions wasn't that odd. _She just lost her parents after all._ Some abnormal habits were bound to have formed anyway. _Yeah, it's just a phase_ Harry reassured himself. He helped Dean up, ready to finally take him to the infirmary, but Dean wasn't finished with his news. Grinning he remembered the final juicy piece he saved for last. He lowered his voice to a mock stage whisper,

"Hey, Harry. Do you know what else? Hermione spent the entire class staring at that snake Malfoy." Dean waggled his eyebrows. Harry's eyes widened. "You'd think there is something between them. She looked at him like he was prey or something. I'm serious; she couldn't keep her eyes off him."

* * *

That afternoon, Hermione took the opportunity after dinner to return to the library. There was still time before curfew and she still wanted to research as much as possible about the Second War. There was still so many questions: Who was Dumbledore referring to when he said he failed? Why was Madam Bones chosen to die? When was Sirius's trial if he had one? With so many cases to solve, Hermione felt like a magical version of Sherlock Holmes. Filled with childish excitement over her new pet project Hermione practically ran down the halls towards the library. Taking the quickest route, Hermione sped down the hallway past the figure walking in the opposite direction. A hand grasped her shoulder to stopping her in her tracks. Hermione felt a peculiar sense of dread. She stiffened, was she being attacked? Was it Malfoy? Quickly she whipped around, wand already in her hand-

"Calm down Miss Granger," chuckled Dumbledore as he held his hands up non-threateningly. Hermione flushed in embarrassment. Unconsciously, she relaxed before remembering her suspicions again and discreetly backing up a few steps. Nonetheless, the witch kept her expression friendly, not wanting the man to notice her sudden wariness. She saw that he was holding a couple thick books.

"Sorry sir," she replied apologetically as she looked into his eyes. Suddenly she felt something subtly probing the back of her mind. What is that feeling?

"Heading for the library," Dumbledore asked curious.

"Yes sir," she answered. "There's an essay for Transfiguration that I still need to complete." Dumbledore smiled.

"Well, go be off your way then Miss Granger," Dumbledore replied pleasantly. "I wish you luck on your essay." At that note, the wizard made his leave and resumed to leisurely walk down the hall. Hermione nodded back and sped off towards the library. The more distance she put between them, the more she felt that an invisible hand that had been squeezing her loosening its suffocating hold.

* * *

Hermione didn't see Madam Pince in her usual spot behind the Library check-out desk. As she approached the Archives Hermione noticed someone busy conjuring ropes around it. The Archives were being roped off like the Restricted Section and the missing librarian in question was in fact the one sealing it.

"Just what is this about," Hermione asked, baffled.

"Oh, you're back," was all Madam Pince said in response. In her arms was an issue of the Daily Prophet. From Hermione's perspective all she could see was part of the headline: DUMBLEDORE DECLARED MAGICAL GUAR..." The date read 1981. What did Madam Pince want with an old paper? As if noticing the Gryffindor attempting to read the rest of the headline, Madam Pince positioned the newspaper so it was hidden from view. She scowled down at Hermione. "What are you doing here?"

"Just wanted to look something up," Hermione answered. She made way towards the rope to undo it. The librarian shot out a hand to stall her.

"You can't."

"Why not?"

For a second, Hermione could've swore that she saw something like pity flash in the librarian's eyes. But in a second it was gone and her usual stern expression was in place. "Only seventh years are allowed anywhere near the archives."

"What," Hermione exclaimed. "Wh-when was this decided?"

"A few hours ago. Some—professors, were concerned about letting priceless documents be in the hands of students. Now only seventh years are allowed. Those are the rules, Miss Granger."

"There has to be some way to let me in there."

Madam Pince glowered. "If you really want to look at something, then all you have to do is get a note from a professor giving you permission to look at them and I'll give you a copy. You are also required to tell me the reason why you need them."

"I can't wait until seventh year!"

The librarian grew suspicious. "That's why I told you to ask me for a copy. What exactly were you looking for?"

Swallowing her frustration, Hermione just replied, "Nothing." This was just too coincidental. She suddenly gains an interest in the old Daily Prophet issues and a couple periods later students are not allowed access?

Madam Pince sighed. She could practically see the steam pouring out of the young witch's ears. If she didn't nip this in the bud, all that pent up righteous Gryffindor rage would be unleashed upon her. Merlin, she hated kids.

"Look," she began. "If you want, I can tell you who you should complain to."

Hermione perked up, "Who?"

"Dumbledore," the librarian answered. "He was just here to tell me to seal off the archives."

* * *

 _Dumbledore_. It always lead back to him. Hermione seethed as she marched down the hallway away from the library. A few minutes after being chased away by Madam Pince, she stopped to see if there were any non-fiction books on the Second War in the library. Somehow, all the books had been taken out and there was nothing left for her to research from. Well, it certainly explained all the books the Headmaster was carrying when she bumped into him on the way to the library. Now she had no doubt that the conniving old man had to be hiding something. Judging by the fact that he went as far as censorship to keep Hermione from nosing around the War, Dumbledore must have some pretty large skeletons in his closet. _He can try to stop me. I'll sneak into the archives. I'll break into his office if I have to. I will have those books!_

Suddenly, something she saw stopped her in her tracks. In front of her was a disembodied sneaker positioned around a corner hovering a few inches above the ground. _Well this certainly is disturbing._ Now Hermione had three choices.

She could:

A) Ignore the floating foot.

B) Tell a Professor that there was a floating foot

C) Go investigate the (maybe) cursed floating foot to satisfy her curiosity

The witch wished that she could just choose option A but knowing the type of person she was, that was impossible. The problem with B was that she didn't trust any of the professors anymore. The closest one was probably Snape, who would probably make her eat the foot and then take points off for being disgusting.

 _Curiosity killed the cat_. Hermione reminded herself once more. _Good thing I'm not a cat!_ Tentatively, Hermione reached her hand forward to make sure it wasn't attached to anything. To her shock, her fingers grasped smooth fabric wear there was none and she pulled it. What it revealed was her bewildered friend Harry, who realized that he was now visible.

Paling visibly, Harry swiftly turned around towards his attacker. He relaxed once he recognized who it was.

"Hermione just the person I want to see. How did you know I was here though?"

"You know, there is no point to use the Invisibility Cloak if it doesn't cover you completely."

"Huh?"

"You're stealth amazes me." Harry flushed.

"Shut up!"

"You want me to what," Hermione asked loudly to annoy him. Harry pushed her against the wall and covered her mouth with one hand after throwing the invisibility cloak on both of them. "Seriously be quiet," he whispered harshly peering out the corner.

Hermione peeled his hand away glaring at her crazy friend. "What's going on?"

"Malfoy," Harry answered. True to his word, Malfoy was walking down the corridor with Crabbe and Goyle flanking his sides. He walked past not once, not twice, but three times all the while looking like he expected something to jump out and attack him at any moment. Which he should be Hermione thought looking at Harry who was watching Malfoy like a hawk. Though even she thought it was odd how Malfoy just kept pacing the corridor. At the end of his third round, a door appeared. Realizing which floor they were on, Hermione realized where they were. _Malfoy's using the Room of Requirement?_

"This is where the ferret goes every night," Harry whispered.

"How did you know," Hermione shot back. "We've only been here for a day."

"Well, you know Malfoy is a Death Eater right?"

The question left Hermione speechless. Harry grinned, taking her silence as agreement. "I knew you agreed with me."

"I never _said_ I agreed with you but I admit it is a possibility." Seeing Harry's victorious smug look on his face Hermione added, "I'm still skeptical." Harry shrugged and went back to watching the door. This is so surreal. First censorship in a school of learning, now the "saviour of the wizarding world" obsessively stalking an alleged Death Eater just to prove he's right. _Sometimes I wonder why I didn't go to the private school my Grandmother suggested. But no, I wanted to learn magic. Because of my brilliant choice I'm friends with a stalker who seemed to know his victim's habits just after the first day. Wait…_

"Harry," Hermione asked cautiously. "How did you know Malfoy would be here exactly?" She already suspected the answer but was dreading his answer.

Harry of course never ripped his eyes away from the door. "Well, I spent most of the night watching him in the Marauder's map. At first I was confused why he had disappeared but after following his route yesterday, I discovered exactly where he had been going. I didn't know if he was going to show up again so I've been waiting here ever since classes ended. Now I know and I am going to keep a look out for him until there is proof that he is a Death Eater."

The fact that he said all of that nonchalantly bothered Hermione greatly so she discreetly moved a few steps away from her friend— just to be safe. "You watched him the whole night?"

"Yes."

"…"

Thankfully their conversation was cut short by the screech of the old door swinging open. Out came out their suspect in question who was visibly paler than before he entered. His ever-faithful bodyguards, Crabbe and Goyle, straightened up from against the wall attentive to their leader.

"How did it go," they heard Crabbe ask. "The mission I mean."

Malfoy snapped,"Quiet." From behind the cloak, Harry could see the ferret's eyes flitting across the hall frantically only to relax when he saw no one present. "What if someone heard you?"

"Sorry," Crabbe apologized scratching his head awkwardly. "I just thought it was ok since no one's around."

"Well think better! Even the walls have ears you know."

"How far are you in completing the task," the previously quiet Goyle inquired.

Malfoy just glanced at him disdainfully. "That's none of your concern. Now what is your concern is to cover for me tonight. I'm not coming back to the the dormitory after the prefect rounds tonight so make sure no one else knows. I can trust both of you to not mess this up right?"

His manservants just nodded though Hermione though she saw somehting like resentment in Goyle's eyes. With his head still high in the air, Malfoy swished around and with his robes billowing (not unlike Snape), he along with his two followers marched down the hallway towards the dungeons.

—

"You heard it right?"

"Harry…"

"He's a Death Eater," Harry bellowed as they were walking back to the Gryffindor common room.

"Maybe they were talking about a mission Snape gave them or something."

"Snape," Harry exclaimed. "Snape, Hermione, really?" Frustrated, Harry stopped, grabbed his friend by the shoulders and shook her. "What will it take to prove he's part of the people trying to kill us? To have 'I am a registered Death Eater' stamped on his forehead? Open your eyes!"

"Stop it," Hermione growled slapping his arms away. "I refuse to believe that Dumbledore would allow a member of a murderous cult into a school full of children." _Even if he also might be an evil maniac_ the witch added quietly.

"He let Voldemort in our first year," Harry challenged.

Speechless, the Gryffindor witch found that there was no argument she could use against that. Harry knew that he was right. For all the times adults told them that Hogwarts was the "safest" place in the world, somehow something almost kills the boy every year. _I'm safer with the Dursleys_ Harry added mentally. _And that's really sad._

"But still, he's sixteen. What type of Dark Lord allows a sixteen-year-old join his ranks?"

Harry shot back," What type of Dark Lord tries to assassinate a baby and still lose?"

Good point. As much as Hermione wished she had some sound reason why Harry was acting completely bonkers, unfortunately she came up with nothing. Finally, she relented, "What do we do about it then?"

"We prove that Malfoy's evil."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes but _how_ will we accomplish that exactly?"

Instead of looking embarrassed like she expected, to her fear Harry merely grinned diabolically at her.

 _I have a bad feeling about this._

"Glad you asked."

* * *

It took a awhile for Malfoy to convince Pansy to not accompany him on their prefect rounds, but after many threats, compliments, and bribes he managed to persuade the harpy to stay and have a "rest." Hopefully those two dimwits would stay true to their word otherwise it would be quite annoying if Snape would catch wind of what he's been up to. _Snape, that traitor._ On the first day, he called Malfoy down to his office to chat about he would like to "help him" with his mission because his mother requested it. _Please!_ Everyone knew Snape was only looking to make himself look better in the eyes of the dark lord. He wouldn't even bat an eyelid if the dark lord decided it was time to be rid of the Malfoys. No, he needed to stay on the dark lord's good side if he even hoped to have a chance of surviving. And that meant not _failing._

Malfoy walked purposefully towards the fifth floor. He had a feeling that he would be very familiar with the hallway by the end of the year. With the rate the mission was going, it was unlikely it would be completed anytime soon. The torches nearby flickered.

 _One, two, three_. He passed by the empty hallway three times all the while watching out for the squib and his ruddy cat. Malfoy only relaxed when he spotted that ever familiar wooden door appear out of nowhere.

That was his mistake because he stopped being aware of his surroundings. When Malofy placed his hand on the doorknob, he never felt the red beam of light hit him square in the back.


	4. Scene Four

Disclaimer: Still not mine!

* * *

"Why do people hold grudges? They're really useless—like mental burdens. People need to learn to let bygones be bygones. I mean that's how I do my job. I don't let pesky feelings get in my way. Don't let petty fights stop you from following your ambitions. After all yesterday's enemies make really good allies…or at least very friendly stepping stones."

\- Henry Barbsnick, Barrister at Wiggings & Parish

* * *

"Oh dear Merlin, what did we do," Hermione asked while wringing her hands in her hair. The situation was completely insane and she was right in the middle of it. Meanwhile her best friend was pacing about uselessly.

"Hush! I'm trying to think."

Hermione felt like screaming. "Think? We don't have time to think! What should we do?"

 _How did I get into this mess_. Hermione stood stiffly over a crumpled figure that lay motionless on the ground. Her thumping heart was not helping matters either. _We assaulted a student. Sure the student was Malfoy but still a student_! Harry seemed more relaxed than her when he stopped pacing and eyed Malfoy puzzlingly as if trying to solve a homework problem. _Maybe he figured out how to get out of this mess._

"Got any ideas on what to do now," he asked.

"How should I know," Hermione snapped. "It's your brilliant idea." The magnitude of trouble they'd be in if they got caught made the witch felt sick in the stomach. _We're done for. That's it. Let's just turn ourselves in. If Malfoy is a Death Eater then they might not expel us._

Harry suggested,"How about the Room of Requirement?"

Hermione gaped at her friend. Is he really that stupid? "We can't keep him there."

"Why?"

Hermione willed herself to relax. _Calm down Hermione, we're not caught yet._

"Harry," Hermione began calmly. "Remember when we told half the school about the Room last year? You know when we made the DA? Now even Malfoy uses it and the other day I saw Fred and Angelina sneak in there probably to snog or something."

 _So_ , Harry wondered. He didn't get the point she was trying to make.

"Everybody knows about it," Hermione stressed. "The Room is basically public property now. What if someone runs into us? We may as well hide him in Snape's office!"

 _Oh_

Hermione reminded, "Let's just focus on hiding…the body."

"Geez," Harry said rolling his eyes. "You're acting like we killed someone. I just knocked him out." He pointed his wand at the comatose Malfoy. _Wingardium Liviosa_. Malfoy floated his face blissfully unaware of the fact that he was being kidnapped and Harry draped the Invisibility cloak over his body hiding the slytherin completely from view. With a flick of his wand, Harry checked to see if he was able to maneuver the hidden body freely. "Ready?"

Hermione nodded. She saw that they were now without the invisibility cloak "What about us? How will we avoid being seen?"

"We won't," Harry answered simple. "We'll be using this." He took out a crumpled, yellow piece of parchment. "We'll take the corridors that the Professors aren't patrolling. Hermione leaned over the Marauder's Map and cursed. The tiny, ink characters revealed that Professor Snape and Professor Mcgonagall were both on duty tonight. Add that to Filtch and his demon cat— Hermione bit her lip anxiously. Of course the two strictest professors just had to be patrolling on the same night.

Harry silently scanned the map before widening his eyes. Before Hermione could ask, he quickly grabbed her and shoved them and their human parcel inside the first room they could find.

"What was that fo-" Hermione never got to finish her sentence when Harry covered her mouth with his hand and held a finger to his lips warningly. Then slowly he pointed to the map. Without them noticing, Snape who had been on the third floor had snuck up on them. Hermione's face paled. Looks like he wasn't just patrolling. Snape headed straight for the fifth floor which meant he was looking for something...or someone.

The Gryffindor witch was panicking inside. Did he know?

Harry on the other hand was thinking differently. While Dumbledore had time and time again assured him where Snape's loyalties lay, there was no way Harry could ever trust the man. There was the possibility that Snape was here to assist Malfoy in whatever he was doing. _Got you now you greasy git._ Careful not to make a sound, Harry leaned his head over and pressed his ear to the door to better hear what was going on outside.

"Where is that spoiled brat," he heard Snape grumble though his voice was muffled. " That moronic dunderhead #2 said he'd be here." _Dunderhead #2?_ … _Goyle?_ Harry sat on the floor confused. Goyle actually ratted Malfoy out? But why? He heard Snape let out a tired sigh. "What was I doing listening to that idiot anyway. I'll just confront the brat in the morning."

Once Snape's footsteps faded away the two Gryffindors finally relaxed. Harry glanced at the map. Snape was luckily heading back towards the dungeons.

"Now what should we do," Hermione asked. Harry looked at her startled. He completely forgot that she was there. Looking at her face, she looked ready to have a panic attack. Thinking hard, Harry tried to come up with a solution. Any moment now, Malfoy could wake up. _A place only I know—wait!_

"Hermione," Harry whispered. "I have an idea."

Hermione asked warily,"What idea?" The last brilliant idea Harry had was the one that landed them into this mess in the first place. What was it this time? Take Malfoy to the Gryffindor Common Room after transfiguring him into an actual ferret? _Actually in that case the other Gryffindors might help us hide him_ Hermione realized before shaking her head. _What am I thinking?_ Harry pretended not to hear her question, instead focusing on levitating Malfoy through the door.

* * *

The two walked in complete silence. After the close encounter with Snape, Harry barely let his eyes leave the map. Hermione had no clue where the boy was taking them as they took multiple shortcuts and detours just to avoid the patrolling prefects and Professors in their way. After what seemed like hours to the two Gryffindors, they slowed their steady pace once they reached the first floor.. Finally, it dawned on Hermione just where they were headed to. The sign of the out of order girls' bathroom came into view and Harry stepped right in without hesitation.

"We're going to the Chamber of Secrets," Hermione stated not even bothering to ask.

"100 points to Gryffindor" was all Harry said in response. "You asked for a place no one knew about right? Also the only people able to get in there are me and Voldemort and since old snakey butt can't get in here so I am the only one able to unlock it." With a cocky grin on his face, Harry turned to his friend and waggled his eyebrows. "Admit it, that was rather Ravenclaw-ish of me."

"Oh hush," Hermione chastised though she smiled in relief. Harry chuckled as well though he stopped once he laid eyes on something.

 _Meow_

Hermione's blood ran cold. Right in front of them was Ms. Norris whose eyes gleamed at them with unhidden feline malice.

Harry ordered, "Filch is going to be here any minute. Help me out." Without even answering, Hermione quickly whipped out her wand, floating Malfoy towards the broken sink with a snake etched on the side. For a long moment, Harry did nothing and it was made the witch feel anxious.

"Any day now," she urged. In the distance, she could hear a muffled voice approaching them. Looks like was bringing Filch after them.

" _Open_ ," Harry hissed in parseltongue. The sink slid to the side revealing the opening. A tunnel that hadn't been there a moment ago appeared before their eyes. For Hermione this would be the first time she entered the secret Chamber of Slytherin and for a second she completely forgot of the peril they were in. The mere idea of all the secrets that were held in the room was enough to make her inner historian giddy.

"Where are they," grunted Filch. "Where are they my lovely?" Hermione snapped out of her thoughts.

Harry cursed. How did they get here so fast? Swinging open the door to the tunnel he floated Malfoy into it and pulled Hermione towards him. Then just as quickly, he slammed the tunnel closed and heard the clink of the sink sliding back into place. They were safe for now.

Harry and Hermione were immediately greeted by the desolate atmosphere of the Chamber. The damp, murkiness of the tunnel was exactly how Harry remembered it. On the floor were layers of a papery substance, probably snake skin. Only one difference was notable in the Chamber and that was the presence of cobwebs. _Well the basilisk is gone_. In the distance the boy could see the head of Slytherin looming intimidatingly. _As if daring us to approach_ Harry thought with a shudder. The memories the scarred boy had of the place were not pleasant ones. Here he had faced off the younger version of the man who wanted him dead more than anything else in the world. _Don't know if it's right to call that thing a "man."_

 _So this is the famous Chamber of Secrets_ Hermione thought taking in the sight of what was once thought to be a myth. Everything just felt so surreal to the girl. Right now, she was making history. Oh, the things they could do here. All the secrets they could uncover! Surely the basilisk couldn't have been the only thing the founder had hidden here. A true scholar like him would have done research and used the magical snake as a guard dog. The best part is that she would be the first one to look at them. All Hermione needed was a person to speak parseltongue to reveal them. Luckily she had one of those ready right next to her. Having a walking, magical master-key for a friend sure had its uses.

"Uh, 'Mione a little help here," Harry grunted under the weight of Malfoy. Hermione's face fell. Oh right, they were here to interrogate Malfy. _Priorities Hermione!_ She reached down and and picked up a piece of dead snake skin of the floor. _Probably came off when the snake shedded no doubt._ It took Hermione a while for her to remember the spell, but when she did she pointed her wand at it and shouted, " _Videatur Sedes."_

Instantly, the snake skin morphed and twisted into the form of a simple wooden chair. Harry then quickly dumped their slytherin captive on it and conjured some ropes to wrap around the boy's unconscious form. _That should keep the prick from leaving_ Harry reassured himself. Everything was going according to plan.

* * *

Malfoy felt terrible. His life was already messed up as it is, but did it really need to add random aches all over body to the list? He winced. Even thinking made his brain hurt. _What happened to me?_ Tiredly, the wizard tried to move his arms so he could properly clutch his head and massage the pain away but, curiously found that he was unable to move. Curious was probably not the best way to describe his feeling, outright terrified would be better. Not just his arms but his entire upper body. It seemed that he was being restrained. He looked down. _Ropes?_ The last thing Malfoy remembered was leaving the dungeons to head to The Room and then-darkness. It finally dawned on him. _Someone kidnapped me! But why? Who?_ Malfoy winced. It hurt to think.

"Hey I think I saw him move," Malfoy heard a voice whisper behind him. An unfamiliar sense of terror overwhelmed him. He wasn't alone. Who could have found out about him. Was Snape truly the traitor Bellatrix said he was? Did he tell that blasted Order? Malfoy paled. Could it be that the Dark Lord wasn't satisfied with his progress? _But it's had only been a day._

"No way," Scoffed another voice, more masculine this time. Malfoy recognized the irritating grate of that voice…

"But, Harry we should check just in case," said the first person.

Malfoy inwardly groaned. _I was kidnapped by Potter? How humiliating!_ His assailants stayed silent. _Did they hear?_ Malfoy's thoughts were cut short when the chair suddenly floated in the air and flipped him around. There in front of him stood Potter who was grinning like a child at Christmas. The Mudblood also stood next to him, fidgeting with her robes nervously. _Crap._

"Morning ferret," chirped Potter brightly. "Had a nice rest?" _Of course he looks so cheerful_ Malfoy thought. _Probably getting a huge kick out of this, the prat._

"What do you want Potter," groaned Malfoy. Really it was too late in the day for this. "Did the broken nose accident really bother you. I thought it made a good improvement on your face actually."

Unsurprisingly, the his snarky comment angered Potter. "What we want is for you to reveal the scum you truly are you annoying, furry prick."

"What Harry meant to say," the mudblood interjected quickly before a one-sided brawl broke out. Malfoy looked at her curiously. "Is that we simply want to know if you are a Death Eater" _Simply? "_ Yes or no."

"Even if I were, do you actually think I would admit it," the slytherin sneered. To his delight the two annoyances in front of him were rendered speechless.

Malfoy's joy was short-lived however, when instantly the wizard and witch's gazes became cold.

Granger ordered, " Pull up his sleeves." Malfoy's breath quickened. _Curse the dark lord for creating a visible identification system_. Potter approached him and forcefully pulled back his left sleeve revealing the disgusting tattoo underneath. Now that they had proof, the slytherin had no doubt that very soon his life would be over sooner than he expected.

"It seems you have some explaining to do, Malfoy," Granger said softly in a tone that sent shivers up Malfoy's spine.

 _I was right! HaHa!_ Harry did a little victory dance in his mind. Since he met Malfoy in Madam Malkin's a month ago, Harry knew the ferret was up to no good. Ron however told him multiple times that he was acting "battier than Moody" but, now Harry had proof. _That'll show Ron._ He turned to Hermione wanting to give the oh-so-deserved," I told you so", but stopped when he saw the downright murderous look on her face. Finally paying attention to the atmosphere, Harry immediately sobered up. Malfoy looked downright terrified.

 _Time to begin the interrogation_ , Hermione thought darkly. She didn't see the bully of the classmate in front of her but, instead a person who was an accessory to the murder of her parents. What she wanted were answers.

"How long have you been a Death Eater," the witch asked.

Malfoy shot back," Long enough." _Oh boy_ thought Harry. _This is going to be a long night._

"What do you know about You-Know-Who's plans?"

"None of your business."

"What is your mission?"

"Like Hell am I telling you."

"What do you know about the string of summer murders that have occurred lately?"

"And why should I answer any of your questions, Mudblood," Malfoy spat.

 _Smack_

Hermione dropped her right hand. The force she used to hit the prat made even the chair shake. To be honest, she felt like hitting the boy again. Hit him for all the pain he's caused and the murderers he was sheltering right now. Stepping towards the now fearful wizard, Hermione ignored the scandalized stare Harry was pointing her way and grasped Malfoy by the collar.

"Let's one thing clear," she began. "I am not 'dirty'. I am not a mudblood and if you want proof that my blood is as good as yours, I will gladly make you bleed and then we can compare. Now I don't think you properly understand the position you're in. We currently have your life in our hands which means cooperating is in your best interests. Is that understood?" Malfoy nodded rapidly. "Good."

Satisfied she let go of the boy's and walked back towards Harry's side. Intimidating the Slytherin had felt amazing. Harry felt worried. _What was that?_ Never did he imagine that Hermione would act with violence like that. For a person who was panicking over getting a couple detentions, she was starting to cross some very weird lines. _Talk about bad cop here._ _I mean I told her to relax about getting caught, but not to let loose this much._ Harry looked at the Slytherin who seemed equally as shocked at the girl's odd behaviour. _I guess I'm the good cop._

"So ferret," Harry called out in a friendly manner. "Are you ready to talk or should I sic 'Mione on you?" He flashed the git a Lockheart level grin. "Because I would _hate_ to have to do that to you."

* * *

 _Think Draco_ , Malfoy urged himself. _How do you get out of this situation?_ Malfoy snuck a glance at Mudblood. She was looking at him like he was a failed essay she wanted to burn which to Malfoy was quite terrifying considering the teacher's pet. _You know what? I'm probably going to die by the end of the year anyway._

"You have 10 seconds Malfoy," Potter reminded. "10...9…"

"Okay, okay. I'll talk," he sputtered out. Maloy could have sworn he saw Granger reaching for her wand when the countdown started. "I had no choice okay. You think I wanted to be a murderous, radical Death Eater?"

"Yes," Potter and Granger answered simultaneously. Malfoy seriously hated these guys.

Taking a moment to calm himself the Slytherin continued, "After my father and the others failed to procure the prophecy last summer, the dark lord was as you can imagine, not very pleased. So, he assigned me an impossible mission as punishment for my father."

"Which was what?"

"He wants me to murder Dumbledore," Malfoy said quite bluntly. The Gryffindors stood there with their mouths open stupidly to his satisfaction. _Hah, they didn't expect that now did they?_

Granger was skeptical. "If he wanted to punish your father, why didn't he just- I don't know- crucio you or something? Why go all the way and force you to kill the one man he couldn't?"

"Do you honestly think I am able to understand how the dark lord thinks," Malfoy drawled. "Come on Granger, surely you are at least smarter than that? If you really wanted to know why don't you ask someone with a direct link to his brain? Like the Boy-Who-Lived-And-Has-A-Clairvoyant-Scar."

"Hey don't look at me," Harry objected. "I have seen the sick thoughts of the man for years and I still don't get him. Voldemort's head is not a fun place to be in" Feeling peeved at becoming the centre of attention, he tried to turn it back towards the ferret. "And you actually are planning to kill Dumbledore?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Yes Potter do keep up. Like I said I had no choice. If I don't, the Dark Lord will kill me and my family and to be honest, I like my family more than I like that bumbling old fool."

"That's why you were at Burgin and Burkes," Harry exclaimed. "You were buying a dark artifact to kill Dumbledore."

"Ten points to Gryffindor," Malfoy replied with a raised eyebrow. "You were stalking me for that long Potter? I'm flattered."

Harry had to restrain himself from attacking the boy _._ Hermione coughed discreetly, thought it sounded suspiciously like a laugh. _Traitor._

"If you didn't want to work for You-Know-Who, why didn't you call the ministry or ask for help from Dumbledore," Hermione asked confused.

Malfoy glared at her disgusted. "Did your brain cells die with your parents Mud- _Granger?_ " He saw both of his enemies tense up like they wanted to attack them but at that point he just didn't care. Their black and white view of the world was just pissing him off. "You Gryffindors are just so naive. This is why your house keeps dying. You all think you're so great when really you are no better than us. Do you really think Dumbledore will care about my family just because I asked for help? Please! Ultimately, Dumbledore and the Dark Lord are both cut out of the same cloth; each having their own agendas and goals. And us? We're all nothing but pawns. As for the ministry. Bones is dead and the ranks are filled with members of the Dark Lord's men. The ministry is compromised and asking for help would just be a death wish now."

"No, Dumbledore isn't like that," Hermione urged. "He cares! He wants to save the Wizarding World!" Her voice was raised a pitch as she desperately tried to get her point across. There was no way she was wrong, right? Malfoy had the strangest urge to laugh. They were just so blind.

"Like he saved your parents," Malfoy challenged. "And yours?" This time he aimed the question at Harry who was strangely quiet. "Ask yourselves this. If Dumbledore is the so-called greatest wizard of the age why didn't he protect your parents himself, Potter? And you, Granger, knowing the goody-two shoes you are you probably ran straight to Dumbledore about the scary little note you got…" Hermione's eyes widened. "And what did he do? Huh? Probably nothing. Face it, he let your parents die for reasons none of us but him can understand. It's the same old story for the 'dark' side too. The only difference is that at least I know I'm damned." Malfoy chuckled though the humour didn't reach his eyes.

"What do you know about my parents," Hermione shakily asked.

Malfoy just blankly looked back at her. He didn't like the feeling of guilt that was welling up inside him. Not when the other party was his sworn enemy.

"Tell me," she yelled.

"I don't know much," Malfoy admitted. "Just what my aunt talked about when she came by to see the Dark Lord."

"So, Voldemort is living _in_ your home," inquired Harry.

"Yes."

"Was it her," Hermione asked, trembling. "It was Bellatrix who did it, wasn't it?"

The Slytherin looked at the witch dead in the eye. "No. Bellatrix's methods are much more messy than that. Also the Dark Lord wants her to lie low for a while with the Death Eater capturing frenzy the Ministry's doing. It was probably Yaxley or maybe Dolohov. Their kills are quicker and cleaner if that's any comfort."

"Get out," Hermione whispered.

"What was that?"

"I said get out," she ordered. How could he talk about her parents' murders so casually?

Malfoy sighed. " Not that I wouldn't love to end this little rendezvous Granger, but in case you haven't noticed I'm a little tied up here." He gestured -or tried to- at his bonds.

Harry walked up to the Death Eater embarrassed and quickly muttered the spell to undo the ropes. Rubbing his sore wrists, Malfoy winced and shot the two Gryffindors wary looks.

"So what now? Going to tell on me?" Malfoy certainly hoped they didn't but pissing off the very people who hold your life in their hands are not exactly good odds for survival. He almost felt regret attacking Potter and Co all these years...key word being almost.

Harry opened his mouth to say, yes, _yes they_ would tell Dumbledore and then they would stick his sorry arse into Azkaban with his father. And then Harry would laugh, hold a party where he invited everyone but the Slytherins and then he would broadcast that party directly into Voldemort's head. That's what they would do.

His friend however had a different idea.

"Don't worry. We won't tell anyone anything for now," Hermione reassured. "We'll keep in touch. Continue on with your work as normal until we figure things out."

"What," yelled Harry.

Malfoy was confused as well but, he wasn't an idiot and was ready to take any opportunity that fell on him. Nodding at Granger he turned and fled down the hall. Where was he anyway?

* * *

"What in Merlin's pants were you thinking," Harry all but screamed. "You just _willingly_ let a Death Eater free."

Hermione rubbed her head tiredly. "I just don't think turning Malfoy in is the best option here."

"He's a Death Eater."

"If we turn him in Harry, he might die," Hermione reminded. "You-Know-Who has his mum."

"So what? They may their choice."

"These are lives we're playing with, Harry. One wrong move and people will end up dead and it would be our fault. Also I like the idea of knowing who the Death Eaters in the school are. There's a high chance that You-Know-Who could just replace Malfoy with another student to continue the assassination."

"But we should at least tell Dumbledore, right," Harry argued. "He can find a way to protect them without Voldemort noticing."

"I don't think telling Dumbledore is a good idea," Hermione said. "He lied to my face, Harry."

"Wait, what?"

"The note," Hermione almost choked up but managed to compose herself. She was done crying. "Last summer, I received a death threat for my parents. Who sent it I don't know, it could be one of the Death Eaters, could be You-Know-Who himself but it said that it would kill my parents by the end of the summer. I of course ran to Dumbledore who told me to tell no one about the note. The weird part was that he specifically said not to tell you and Ron. "

"Why didn't you just tell us anyway," Harry demanded.

"Because Dumbledore assured me everything would be handled," she gritted out. "Then when we came back to school, he called me down to his office, you remember that? You won't believe what he said." Hermione laughed bitterly. "He completely denied everything. That I went to him for help, the note's existence, everything. And you know for a second, he made me think I was going completely insane. If it wasn't for Malfoy confirming it right now, I might have still doubted myself. You know what I still don't understand, Harry is why he lied? But, what I do know is that I can't place my trust in a man who does."

As much as he wanted to, Harry couldn't think of a rational explanation for the Headmaster's actions. None of what Hermione said made sense to the Dumbledore he knew. The Dumbledore he knew was honest. "Look 'Mione, all I'm saying is that we should tell someone who would be able to keep an eye on Malfoy that's all."

"How about us," she suggested. "We handled much worse than this before. A scared kid is nothing. Also we'll have a direct link to You-Know-Who's plans."

Harry remained unconvinced. "The Order of the Phoenix was created for this reason. As a part of that, we shouldn't keep things from them, it's not right."

"Harry, what has the Order ever done for us?" She had been keeping these feelings bottled up for months and listening to Malfoy was the final twist that unscrewed the cap. "They didn't save your parents. They didn't save mine. Heck they were _losing_ until You-Know-Who was defeated by an infant. Now, they're placing all their hopes on a 15-year-old boy in hopes that he will save their butts again, do you really want to rely on these people, Harry?"

"Frankly, _we_ have achieved more than the Order has for years. We protected the Sorcerer's Stone from You-know-Who." Hermione threw her hands in the air, Harry looked like he wanted to stop her, but she was on a roll. " Who even puts the key to immortality in a school, anyway? Second year with the whole basilisk affair, how come it was me who figured out about the basilisk and Dumbledore didn't do anything about it? Protecting the students is his job! Let's not forget about the whole go-back-in-time-to-break-out-a-convict affair. That reminds me Harry, where was the Order when Dementors came to your home to attack you?"

"I see your point but…"

Hermione grabbed Harry by the shoulders and shook him. "All the adventures and missions we've been doing for the past five years are all things the Order and Dumbledore should have been handling. Right now, I wouldn't trust the Order with taking care of flobberworms let alone people's lives. They've proven time and time again how unreliable they are and it took a self-centred prat to help me see it."

"We can't tell them," she pleaded to Harry. "The only people we can trust right now are us."

Harry relented. "Fine we won't tell." Relieved, Hermione gave the boy a hug. Harry awkwardly patted her on the back. "We should probably go now. It's almost morning."

* * *

They walked towards the entrance of the chamber where they were greeted by an annoyed Malfoy who looked like he had been trying to kick the door open.

"It's about time you lot got here," he grumbled.

"What are you doing here," Harry demanded. There was only so much _Malfoy_ he could handle.

Malfoy shouted, "I couldn't open the bloody door. Where did you take me anyway?"

 _That's right, we're in the Chamber,_ Harry remembered. "Move out of the way," he ordered the boy impatiently.

Harry hissed in parseltongue," _open."_

Malfoy jumped instinctively. He had learned, living with the Dark Lord for so long, to always expect pain when the man spoke in the language of snakes. Embarrassed, the Slytherin tried to hide the flinch but, it did not go unnoticed by Hermione. Up ahead, the doors slid open revealing the upwards pipe that lead back to the school.

"Where are we," Malfoy asked again.

Hermione answered," Chamber of Secrets." The two Gryffindors then left the gaping Malfoy behind who decided to follow a few seconds after.

 _I was in Slytherin's Chamber_ was all his mind could process as he followed his kidnappers up the sewer. _I'm only Slytherin to know the location of the greatest of the four Hogwarts founders. This is amazing._ As he crawled through the opening, Malfoy did not expect the sight before him.

"The entrance to the most famous Chamber in Hogwarts is located in the girl's bathroom," he deadpanned. "The broken, out-of-order bathroom"

"Yes, but it's not the most ridiculous thing in the school's history," retorted Hermione. "Now let's go back to our dorms. And Malfoy, we'll be keeping in touch so don't think that we're letting you off the hook."

"Oh, joy."

"What are you guys doing here," called out a tearful voice behind them. Hermione and the other two boys froze. They didn't expect to be caught immediately after they left. Turning around they were greeted by the sight of the miserable ghost who haunted the bathroom, Moaning Myrtle.

"You all came here to make fun of me, didn't you," Myrtle cried out sorrowfully.

 _Of all people why did we run into her?_ Harry and Hermione were at a loss as to how to placate the girl before she moaned loud enough to get them caught by Filch. Fortunately for them, their savior came from an unlikely source.

"Myrtle, it's great to see you again," said Malfoy sweetly. Hermione almost didn't recognize him. The permanent sneer on the Slytherin's face was nowhere to be found and he looked almost friendly. To her even greater surprise, Myrtle seemed to be blushing.

"D-Draco, what are you doing here," the ghost stammered self-consciously.

"I was helping these two out with getting something from the Chamber." Malfoy lowered his eyes in shame. "I'm so sorry for barging in your toilet like this. It didn't trouble you did it?"

"Of course not!"

Malfoy sighed as if relieved and held a hand to his chest. "That's good to hear. You know, I never got to thank you after you...you know, helped me sort out my problems. It was great having a friend to listen. It's hard to find someone who understands what you're going through."

Myrtle seemed to be lapping it right up. The Gryffindors felt quite nauseous hearing the ghost giggle for the hundredth time.

"Oh Draco, you are absolutely welcome to talk to me anytime."

The Slytherin looked up at the ghost through his lashes, shyly. "Really, thank you."

From behind the ghost, Harry could see Hermione mime gagging near the door of the bathroom. He totally got what she was feeling. Watching Malfoy flirt is disgusting.

"I'd really _love_ to stay longer," Malfoy said apologetically. "But we really need to get going. Until we meet again." the wink he gave the ghost at the end made Harry want to throw up.

Myrtle giggled again. "Oh, don't let me keep you. Quick you better leave before Filch finds you." She shooed the group through the door and left not without giving Malfoy one last longing look.

The switch was also instantaneous. The normal Malfoy they all knew and loathed was back again, smug look already on his face.

"That was by far the grossest thing I have ever seen," Harry declared, his face slightly green. Hermione nodded in agreement.

Malfoy scowled. _Some appreciation would be nice. "_ Let's focus on leaving so I don't have to suffer the torture that is being in your company."

* * *

As they walked, Hermione stared at the back of Malfoy's head with consideration. _Manipulative, not totally loyal to the Death Eaters, has insider information cares about himself and his family more than anyone else...we can use him._ But how was the question. She couldn't imagine any scenario where the boy would be willing to help them at all. Sure they had the advantage of blackmailing him but how long would that last. From what he said, Malfoy was on a time sensitive mission. His identity as a Death Eater will be revealed soon. Her first priority was to find out exactly what their respectable Headmaster was hiding in the Archives.

The group separated to return to their respective dorms. Now that Malfoy was out of sight, Harry pulled out the Maurader's Map once again however, all the teachers were in their rooms since their patrols ended quite a while ago so they had nothing to fear. Eventually, the portrait of the Fat Lady came into view.

"Mimbulus mimbletonia," Harry called out, waking the portrait up.

The Fat Lady gave a loud snort and woke up with a start. "Who the- oh it's you again. I was wondering when you would be sneaking out again." She glared tiredly at Harry. "Great, now I have to give Violet ten galleons."

"Why," Hermione asked.

"Well dearie," the Fat Lady began. "Violet and I had a bet to see when here would start sneaking around the school at night like he always does. I said a week." She looked at Hermione amused. "I didn't think you would join him though. Something happening between you two?"

 _Yes, we just kidnapped a fellow student and are helping cover up the identity of a confirmed Death Eater recruit_ Hermione wanted to say but instead answered with,"No, Harry was just helping me sneak out a book."

The Fat Lady giggled knowingly. "Of course dearie, whatever you say. You know us portraits love watching you students. You won't imagine that types of things we see and hear. Goodnight then." She swung open allowing them entrance.

* * *

Hermione lay on her bed, thinking over the night's events. Despite feeling like her entire body was about to melt, her eyes remained wide open.

" _You know us portraits love watching you students." Life as a portrait must be boring_ Hermione thought. " _You won't imagine that types of things we see and hear." Like what?_ Now she was curious. _No one really expects portraits to be listening to their conversations. I bet everyone lowers their guards around them. When you think about it portraits make the perfect spies don't they?_ Hermione froze. There was a portrait in the archives wasn't there? She wracked her brain for any details about it. It was a small, annoyed man, right behind the table she sat at in the Archives. Hermione groaned. That was how Dumbledore knew. The portraits were bound to him as the Headmaster of Hogwarts and would no doubt tell him whatever he needed to know. _And in just enough time to hide whatever dirty secret he has. Well played old coot, but, I got you now._ Hermione closed her eyes. She needed to tell Harry but first she was going to sleep. She hadn't had a chance to rest in a long time.

* * *

A/N: I see other authors leave notes on the bottom of their chapter so now I'm going to do it too. Please review. I like hearing everyone's thoughts. To be honest this is my first fic. Ok, just out of curiosity, how many people would like to see more of Dumbledore thoughts and how he reacts to Hermione's meddling?


	5. Scene five

Disclaimer: Please refer to Chapter one. Just kidding. Still don't own it.

* * *

"The worst criminals, are the ones who put gold into our paychecks and tell us to look the other way."

-Rafis Morgan, Auror

* * *

"We need to talk about Malfoy," Harry exclaimed loudly to Hermione as the trio walked towards the Great Hall.

 _And I need to talk to you about when you can open your big, fat mouth._ Hermione glared at her clueless friend. Out of the corner of her eye she could see a portrait of a dumpy, medieval women eyeing Harry with great interest.

"What about Malfoy," Ron asked, interested.

Harry glanced at Hermione warily, but kept his mouth shut when he caught the warning look on her face.

"It's nothing really," she lied smoothly. "The prat was just trying to start a fight and as usual Harry here took the bait."

"You at least cursed him a bit right Harry?"

"Ron!"

Ron held his hands out in defence. "I'm just saying 'Mione."

"Do you want Harry to be expelled?"

"Of course not!"

Harry wasn't paying attention to their bickering. Instead he was absorbed in his own thoughts. Truth be told, he didn't know whether or not he should tell Ron about the event the night before. His loyalty to Ron as his best mate, screamed for him to spill the beans, but he also knew better than anyone else what would happen. Ron would make a big deal out of the entire thing and probably accuse Malfoy in public. Hermione made it absolutely clear that the Order and the Death Eaters could never know that the ferret's cover had been compromised. Unfortunately, Ron couldn't be relied on to keep his mouth shut.

"Harry," Hermione called out snapping the boy out of his thoughts. "We need to meet up after Transfiguration today. We need to work on the project Professor Sprout assigned us, remember?"

"What project?"

"The _very important_ project she assigned us the other day. That one."

"Oh, yeah," Harry stammered seeing the slightly suspicious look on Ron's face. Merlin, he was being stupid. She obviously wanted to speak to him about what they would do next with the Malfoy affair.

"Good."

Ron remembered something. "Don't forget about the Quidditch tryouts this week. Think you can let me play keeper again. I'm just kidding haha."

Hermione was having trouble paying attention to Professor Flitwick lecture. She nervously chewed on her pencil in deep thought. The first thing she did before she entered the short man's classroom was scan the room for portraits. Luckily there were none but, most student activity occurred in classrooms. _If I were Dumbledore, how would I spy on students during class._ Her eyes flitted to her chattering Professor. _I'd use the teachers._ All the professors did give Harry and to an extent her, unnecessary attention. Of course, they had ignored it, because considering Harry's fame as the Wizarding World's savior, such attention was not unusual.

All that attention only made it harder for Hermione to figure out how not alert Dumbledore to their actions. She mindlessly flipped through her charms textbook. Last year, hiding things from Umbridge was a piece of cake. She did know about the existence of the DA, but didn't know the method of communication they used. Hermione felt that using charmed galleons wouldn't be enough. What charm did she use? She looked down at her textbook. _The Protean Charm..._

An idea popped up in her head. _That's it! I'll use the Protean charm again._ Last year, it was the spell Hermione cast on the fake galleons. Now what if she used it on something like note paper? That way she could send notes to Harry instead of talking aloud. Hermione remembered Riddle's diary. She also needed to find a way to hide their conversations too.

Talking to Malfoy was also a must if they needed to give him instructions. Looks like she had work to do.

* * *

Harry waited for Hermione by the Transfiguration classroom. Finally, they would be able to talk. He tapped his foot impatiently. _What was taking her so long?_

"Sorry I'm late," Hermione apologized. She was carrying three plain notebooks. "Should we go."

"Yes," Harry grunted, still annoyed about being made to wait. "What are those for?" He pointed to the notebooks.

"Oh it's for our little _project,"_ she answered brightly. They walked to one of the unused classrooms. Everyone else was in the Great Hall for lunch which meant there were no teachers to interrupt them. Quickly, Hermione shut the door and cast silencing charms.

"Before we start anything," Hermione started. "I need to tell you that we're being watched."

"What?"

"The portraits, Harry. Dumbledore is using them as his eyes in the castle."

Harry covered his face with his hands. This was just insane. "Hermione…"

Hermione groaned, "And you don't believe me. Wonderful."

"It just seems a little farfetched that's all."

"So was Malfoy as a Death Eater," Hermione retorted.

"True, but…"

"I have proof," Hermione declared. "The other day, I went to the Archives."

"We have Archives," Harry asked. This was news to him

"Yes," Hermione shouted. "Did you never read Hogwarts A History-nevermind. Anyway, I was looking up the first Wizarding War and Dumbledore's involvement in the section of Daily Prophet articles. I found out that this was not the first Dark Lord the old man was involved with. I didn't get through all the articles because Madam Pince kicked me out."

"How is any of this important?"

"I'm getting there," she snapped. Hermione took a deep breath. " When I came back after lunch, Dumbledore had the Archives sealed. Not only that, but suddenly all the books on the second Wizarding War were removed from the shelves. Guess what was watching me do my research. A portrait. The timing is too coincidental to ignore."

Harry tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Say, Dumbledore is spying on us. How come he doesn't know about Malfoy?"

The witch shrugged. "Who knows? He might already know, he might not." _Though it's more likely that he knows._

Harry gestured to the notebooks. "What are those?"

"Oh these?" Hermione set them on one of the desks. They were simple fifty-page books: two red, one green. "This is how we will communicate during class. I charmed them to act like the fake galleons we used last year. First we write the name of who we want to send the information to." She grabbed the first red notebook and wrote Harry's name neatly on the top. Underneath she wrote a "hello." Opening the other red notebook, the word "hello appeared in red ink.

Harry marveled at the impressive display of magic. This was a newt-level charm after all. After a minute, the word disappeared. "Why did it vanish?"

"I took a leaf out of Riddle's book, so to speak," Hermione responded. "Now the conversations will self destruct, in case anyone were to take the books." The witch grinned. "The best part is, anyone else who tries to read our notes will only see Charms notes."

"This is brilliant Hermione!" Hermione puffed up smugly. It only took her half an hour too.

"Who's the green one for," Harry asked.

"This one is for Malfoy."

Harry wrinkled his nose. "Why does _he_ need one?"

"We need to keep a close eye on him," Hermione reminded. "This is how we'll give him instructions." She handed Harry his book and began to gather up her things. "I'll be heading out now."

"So, we're not going to tell Ron anything?"

Hermione stopped in her tracks.

"No, we're not," she answered.

"Why," Harry demanded. "He deserves to know, he's our best mate."

"Harry, this is more than just about friendship," she said firmly. "I like Ron too, but we both know how he gets, especially when it comes to Malfoy." Harry still looked mutinous but kept silent.

Hermione softened her expression. "Don't worry, we'll tell Ron eventually, but we just can't right now. Now we'll talk later. I think you need to rest."

Harry nodded dumbly and left the classroom. Hermione made her way to the door as well. Now to find their pet ferret.

* * *

The boy in question was sweating bullets as he walked with his fellow snakes. Malfoy was only half listening to Blaise's new story about the new Ravenclaw toy he was playing with.

"Girl's aren't something you play with Zabini," Pansy scolded.

Blaise winked. "Sorry Parkinson. I always forget you are one." Pansy looked ready to scratch his eyes off. Instead she let out a loud shriek.

"Shut up, Pansy," Malfoy ordered, rubbing his head. He didn't get a wink of sleep last night.

"What's up with you," Blaise asked. Usually, Malfoy would have given given a scathing remark about how Granger was even less of a girl or something.

"Nothing," Malfoy said. _Just that I am a dead man walking. "_ Anyway-"

Whatever he was about to say, Malfoy never got to when something big slammed into him. "What the?"

"I'm so sorry," a voice apologized. Looking to the side, Malfoy saw Granger kneeling on the ground getting up quickly. The guilty look in her eyes disappeared once she saw who the person she pushed was. "Oh, it's just you."

"Yes, me Granger," Malfoy shouted. "And you just assaulted me, you crazy bint."

Hermione smiled sweetly. "I'm sure you're alright." Then she grabbed her bag and continued walking towards the Astronomy tower.

"Come back, you buck-toothed freak," Pansy yelled at the retreating figure of the girl. "Are you alright, Draco? When I get that crazy girl…"

"A little push from a mudblood isn't a big deal," Malfoy reassured her.

"She dropped something," Blaise noted. There on the floor was a small, green notebook. Malfoy picked it up. It didn't look like anything special.

"Think it's her diary," Blaise asked eagerly. Pansy perked up. This just smelled of juicy gossip.

 _Not that I can use it,_ Malfoy thought. _The dirt they have on me is much bigger._ Nonetheless, Malfoy flipped to the front page. There was only two lines written. His pace quickened. Keep this with you at all times, Hermione, it read. _So much for my hopes that they would leave me alone._

"Let's see what it says," Blaise announced, grabbing the book from his hands. Malfoy paled. _If they know my cover's blown, I'm dead!_ He vainly reached for the book, but Blaise kept it out of reach.

"What is this," Blaise asked, disappointment was evident in his voice. "They're just charms notes." He tossed the book away.

"Figures, that a person like her wouldn't have anything interesting to talk about," Pansy sneered. "She really is nothing like a girl."

 _Charms notes?_ Malfoy picked up the notebook from the ground and shoved it deep in his bag. "Let's go or we'll be late."

Blaise raised his eyebrows. "Why did you take the charms notes?"

"Wouldn't be funny if the mudblood came back and can't find it," Malfoy drawled. "Might do the world a favour and knock herself unconscious in worry." His friends laughed, but, the only person who was actually worrying was Malfoy. Worried about what would happen if he didn't pick up the notebook.

In History, Malfoy kept glancing at the first page of the innocent looking book. The first note had already disappeared to his confusion, and he could only assume that it was to cover up their tracks. Not that he complained. Malfoy looked back the book. A new note had appeared. He gulped.

Come to the Chamber after curfew. No one signed this time around, but Malfoy knew it was still that infernal girl. Since when had he been reduced to this, answering some Gryffindor's beck and call?

* * *

Hermione and Harry stood in Myrtle's bathroom waiting for Malfoy to show up. Luckily, the ghost still hadn't made her appearance yet and navigating the hallways was much simpler when they didn't have to worry about kidnapping someone.

"I don't think he's going to show," Harry stated. He sure was in a foul mood.

"He will if he doesn't want the Order on his arse."

"Which is what we're supposed to do."

"Harry, we've been over this."

"What have I been summoned for this time," Malfoy interjected irritated. Hermione jumped. When did he get here? "I just got here," he replied as if reading her mind.

"What were you doing this entire time, putting on make-up," Harry scathed. "I wouldn't if I were you, you're face is already damaged."

"Still better than yours," Malfoy retorted. "You know, people _try not_ to have scars."

"Enough," Hermione snapped. "Let's just go in the Chamber please."

Harry quickly muttered the password that allowed them entrance. Once inside, Hermione transfigured some debris into a desk and three chairs. "Sit," she ordered.

Malfoy and Harry took a seat, wondering what this meeting was about.

"I have a job for you," Hermione declared to Malfoy.

"A job." Malfoy sneered. "There's something the Great Granger can't do?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, we could do without the sass Malfoy."

Malfoy leaned back in his chair. "So what's this 'job'?"

"I need you to pick up something for me." Malfoy raised his eyebrows interested. "I'm listening."

"Get Professor Snape's permission and pick up all the issues of the Daily Prophet during the year 1981." What she was really looking for was the one issue Dumbledore seemed to be wanting to hide more than anything else.

"So, this is what this is about," Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest. _All this for a paper that might not exist._

Malfoy was confused. "This is about what?"

"None of your business, ferret," Harry countered.

"I'd like to know why I'm being told to pick up some newspapers and why Granger can't do it herself."

"We just don't want anyone to know it's us who are interested in the material."

"Who would be interested in your stupid research," Malfoy asked. Suddenly it clicked. All the secrecy, the charmed notebooks, not revealing him to the Order. The Slytherin smirked. "Trouble in Order paradise, Granger."

Hermione stiffened to his delight. "Wow, I didn't think you would take my words to heart that much. To think you wouldn't trust your loving leader anymore. So why can't you really take the articles yourself?"

"We're being closely monitored," Hermione admitted. "The last time I poked around in the archives, Dumbledore had them sealed. If it's you…" She looked unwaveringly into Malfoy's eyes. "If it's you, he wouldn't expect you to be working with us."

"Fine, I'll do it," he relented. This entire situation was amusing to him. "Can I leave now?"

"Yes, I will give you two heads up tomorrow about when we can meet," Hermione added.

"Don't forget we're watching you too," Harry yelled. "One wrong move ferret, and I will throw you in Azkaban." Malfoy just flipped him off in response and walked ahead of the other two towards the Chamber's entrance.

* * *

After potions the next day, Malfoy told his friends to go on ahead. He made a show of putting his equipment away in a slow pace. Once the last of the students left, he walked up to his bat-like professor who sat at his desk marking essays with a red quill.

"Sir," Malfoy called out cooly.

Snape looked up from his papers at his once favoured student with mild surprise. "Yes, Draco."

"I need permission to access the Archives."

"What for," the professor asked suspicious.

"History project," Malfoy lied. Snape cocked an eyebrow at his obvious fib.

"What is it really-"

"Sir," Malfoy interrupted quickly. " I would also like some assistance with the other _matter_." This was a compromise. He would allow Snape to help him with the mission the Dark Lord assigned him and in return Snape wouldn't ask questions. Malfoy wondered why he was going so far for those stupid Gryffindors' request but, he knew that being caught would be much worse. Now all he needed was for Snape to take the bait.

The professor stared at Malfoy for a long time. Malfoy recognized signs of the potions master trying to enter his mind and he made the necessary mental fortifications to keep him out. Finally, Snape gave up and silently signed the slip and briskly handed it to him. Without thanking him, Malfoy made his leave.

"Draco," Snape called out. "I promised your mother I would keep you safe. You can trust me."

Malfoy said nothing back and left the dungeons. _Did Snape think he was dealing with some Gryffindor. Anyone with half a brain knows better than to trust a spy. Whether he's on your side or not._

* * *

Malfoy made his way towards the library. Making sure to bring his bottomless bag, he headed straight for the librarian's desk. There Madam Pince sat reading a large novel. _More like glaring. She's wearing glasses for Merlin's sake. There's no need to be squinting your eyes that much! She looks like she's in agonizing pain._

No one really like the old hag. She watched students like a hawk. One person bending the rules just a little bit got booted out of the library faster than one can say," books." Unfortunately for Malfoy, today he had to interact with such a distasteful woman.

"Excuse me," he said getting the old bat's attention. Madam Pince narrowed her eyes at the boy.

"What do you want," she demanded. Malfoy handed her the slip with Snape's signature on it.

"I need to access the Archives," he stated. He saw her momentarily stiffen from the mere mention of the place. _How curious._

"Which section?"

"Daily Prophet."

"Year?"

"1981," he answered. Madam Pince definitely looked uncomfortable now.

"I-It'll be ready in a minute," she stammered and made her way quickly around her desk almost rushing towards the Archives.

 _I can see why Granger didn't want to do this herself, creepy._ Malfoy looked around the entrance of the library. All the portraits were looking right at him, it was making him feel uncomfortable.

"Here." Madam Pince reappeared behind her desk and dropped the high stack of newspapers with a thud. "Do you have anything to carry them with?"

"Yes," Malfoy answered as he began to load them into his bottomless-bag. _I think I need to add a lightweight charm too._

Madam Pince watched the boy load all 364 issues into the bag with great difficulty. She looked nervously at one of the cabinets in her desk. Inside was the cause of her headache. A couple days ago, the Headmaster had given her the order to seal off the Archives and dispose of Daily Prophet article: November 2, 1981. Every part of her was screaming to do as he said and throw the issue away, but a small part of her mind resisted. The guilt of destroying a piece of written text was too unbearable. Madam Pince made an oath as a librarian to preserve knowledge the best she could. But, ever since her head wouldn't stop throbbing.

 _Destroy it. Dumbledore is your boss. He said to get rid of it._ Thoughts like those kept ringing in her mind. Malfoy had closed his bag and was about to leave. _No,_ Pince told herself. _I won't do it._

"Wait Mr. Malfoy," she shouted at the boy. She held up the forbidden text. "You forgot this one."

The Slytherin mumbled his thanks and stuffed the article into his bag with the rest. Watching him leave, Madam Pince clenched her fists. She hoped she hadn't made a terrible mistake.

The portrait of a man in glasses slid out of his frame.

* * *

A new instrument sat on Dumbledore's desk. It whirred in place serenely giving the office more of a look of wonder and amazement. The man himself sat quite comfortably behind his desk sucking on lemon drop. He tossed one at his phoenix, Fawkes who gulped it and chittered cheerfully. Then suddenly, the instrument that was so full of life, broke apart. Dumbledore however didn't panic, just popped another lemon drop into his mouth.

"Who took it," he called out to no one in particular.

"According to Herbert in the library," a portrait of Dilys Derwent, a previous Headmaster of Hogwarts responded. "As suspected, the article was taken."

"Miss Granger always is so persistent," Dumbledore chuckled. He took another lemon drop.

"Actually," Derwent continued. "It was taken by a Mr. Malfoy."

Dumbledore was surprised. That was not something he saw coming. So the young Malfoy was helping Miss Granger then, why? No matter, even if they do see the article, he would step in if the the girl interfered too much. Madam Pince however, had to be dealt with. He reached for more lemon drops.

A few raps resounded from the door.

"Come in," Dumbledore answered in a sing-song voice. He smiled widely once he saw who it was. "Ah, Severus welcome. I wasn't expecting you. Would you like a lemon drop?"

"I'm not here to eat some of your infernal muggle treats," the professor snarled.

"Suit yourself," Dumbledore replied, popping one in his mouth. He took a moment to savour the taste before asking his companion, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Malfoy asked for my help in the Dark Lord's assignment."

 _Well this is good news_ Dumbledore thought to himself. _A little too good._ "What brought the boy around?"

"I don't know," Snape admitted. "It frustrates me though. He only allowed it if I signed a slip allowing him entry to the Archives. What was that about?"

 _So that explains it._ The old man determined that was helping Miss Granger but for reasons unknown. _We'll need to keep a close eye on him._

"I don't really understand myself," Dumbledore answered. "Youth never to act the way we expect them to. Do keep an eye on him for me, Severus."

Snape nodded and then focused his attention to his boss's diseased hand. "How is the curse."

"Oh, I am taking the necessary medication don't worry," Dumbledore reassured. "I'm thankful for the efforts you're putting into treating it. I just place burdens on you don't I? What with the task I'm getting you to do at the end of the year too. Forgive me, my boy."

Snape clenched his jaw. _So you do know you're asking for too much._ "I'll be taking my leave then."

"That reminds me." Dumbledore stared right into his eyes. "Please increase Madam Pince's dosage."

"What, why!" Snape exclaimed in shock. "It's already too much in the first place."

"She's being more rebellious as of late," Dumbledore insisted. "Please, Severus."

The professor had no choice but to nod stiffly and take his leave. The Headmaster reclined back into his seat closing his eyes tiredly. Every part of his plan was necessary to save the people from the threat of the Dark Side. The Wizarding World depended on it. No outside force must be allowed to interfere.

"It's all for the Greater Good, Fawkes," Dumbledore whispered, feeding the bird a lemon drop. "All for the Greater Good."

* * *

"Here you go as requested, more than 200 articles of the Daily Prophet ready for inspection," Malfoy announced, strutting into the Chamber after Harry. He plopped down on one of the magically conjured chairs centered in the Chamber's large atrium and stared lazily at the bushy-haired Gryffindor who was already scanning the first article she grabbed. "You do know what you're looking for right?"

"Not necessarily," she responded, grabbing another. "I remember reaching October 30, 1981 so I'm starting there."

"Then what's the point of making me get the entire _year's_ issues," Malfoy asked, irritated.

Hermione shrugged. "I could have missed something." The witch flipped through another stack of the papers, looking at the dates. "I like to be thorough but, what I am looking for was most likely released after the war ended."

"So after Voldemort killed my parents," Harry muttered.

"After he killed a lot of parents," Hermione added blankly. She pulled out the last issue she read: October 30 1981 and handed it to Harry. The list of all the casualties of the conflict spanned pages. The Gryffindor boy's eyes darkened after reading each name.

"That's a lot of orphans, isn't it," Hermione said emotionlessly. "And the list is only going to get bigger if the wizarding world doesn't get off it's arse and do something about it."

Malfoy remained strangely silent. The whole atmosphere suffocated him. For a moment, he had forgotten that he was a Death Eaters and the two classmates that he went to school with for the past six years were now officially his enemies. Guilt churned in his stomach once again. Another war, this was just too real for the Slytherin. To think, he even harboured some hope that Potter and Granger might actually, dare he say it, help him!

Hermione tutted. "The Death Eater casualties are also listed. There's a lot of them too. Well, that's what happens when you follow a psycho." She looked at Malfoy who had a conflicted expression on his face. She smirked. _Time to make him feel worse._ "That reminds me, did you know your master is a half-blood."

Malfoy's mind stopped working. "What?"

"Yeah, he has a muggle dad," the witch explained cheerfully. Oh she was having such a _great_ time watching all the different emotions flicker on the prick's face. Surprise, Anger, Self-Pity. She giggled.

Shocked, the Slytherin turned to Harry who nodded in confirmation. His mind figuratively exploded. Once again the bizarre urge to laugh uncontrollably overcome the snake. Malfoy covered his face with his hands. To think a group of blood supremacists were kneeling at the feet of a person with inferior blood to them. _Oh the irony._

Satisfied at giving the boy an existential crisis, Hermione returned to shuffling through the Daily Prophet papers. Hopefully, this would help butter Malfoy up when it came time for them to convince him to defect from the Death Eater side. As much as she didn't like the boy, the witch knew there was no way she would just let him and his family die like that. _I'm such a bleeding heart._

Her eyes spotted one article that was more wrinkled than the rest. Grabbing it, she looked straight at the date, November 2, 1981. Scanning the title, she gasped and clutched the paper, wrinkling it even further. "DUMBLEDORE DECLARED MAGICAL GUARDIAN OF INFANT SAVIOR."

Hermione skimmed over the article, her eyes widening over every sentence she read. "Harry," she sputtered. "Did you know about this?" She thrust the newspaper at him.

Malfoy eyed the two curiously. Interestingly, as Saint Potter read the issue, his face turned a lovely shade of purple. It was quite amusing for the bored Slytherin. But now instead of feeling bored, Malfoy felt frustrated at not being able to know just what got Granger and Potter so riled up.

Harry roared, " I can't believe this!" He slammed the newspaper on the table.

"Can't believe what," Malfoy asked craning his head to have a better look.

Harry ignored him, absolutely spitting with rage. The mudblood on the other hand was just as upset but didn't look so surprised at all. _She looks like all her worst fears had been confirmed._ Malfoy glanced at the paper. _Now I really want to know what it says._ As if hearing his thoughts, Hermione nudged the newspaper over to his eager hands.

He read aloud,

"After the fall of You-Know-Who and the tragic deaths of Lily and James Potter, the savior of the wizarding world, young Harry Potter, has been taken in by previous savior Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. ' This war has cost us the lives of many precious people. I felt it was my duty to care for the one orphan who ended this terrible conflict for us,' says Dumbledore as he exited the Ministry after handing in the appropriate paperwork. ' Do not worry. Little Harry will be cared for and properly looked after.' When asked where the boy-who-lived would be staying and how the Potter business would be looked after, the Supreme Mugwump stated that the boy would be living with him and the business would be looked after until the boy is of age. As for exactly where Harry Potter would be staying, the Headmaster refused to give us an address. (For more on Dumbledore and Dark Lord Grindelwald go to page 6)"

Malfoy furrowed his eyebrows. "I don't see what the problem is here."

"Don't see what the problem," Harry sputtered. "I didn't know anything about this!"

"Really, anything?" Malfoy had a hard time believing this. "How can you not know who your guardian is?"

"It seems to have slipped Dumbledore's mind to tell me," Harry replied snarkily. "He seems to forget to tell me a lot of things. First I had no idea I was a wizard until I was 11. Then he only tells me about the prophecy until after I fought Voldemort three times and now he's apparently my guardian and I own a business? How is that possible. I lived with the Dursleys as a human house elf!"

 _Fought the Dark Lord three times...his luck is amazing_ Malfoy thought in awe. "What was the prophecy about," the Slytherin asked sneakily.

"Like hell am I going to tell you," Harry snapped back. _Whoops, almost forgot he was a Death Eater._

Malfoy shrugged and grinned. "It was worth a shot."

"Is that even legal," Hermione asked, finally speaking up. "To be a guardian over someone, but dump them with their relatives and never check on them?"

Malfoy shrugged again. The witch sighed. "Instead of finding more answers we just got more questions."

"I have a business," Harry repeated. "Am I the only person who thinks that keeping something so huge like that from me is crazy? Or is this one of those 'you are too young this responsibility' things?"

"I'm sure he meant to tell you someday," Hermione answered trying to reassure her friend.

"Actually, father made sure I knew how to run the Malfoy business at a young age," Malfoy interjected unhelpfully. Hermione threw him a dirty look. "What?"

"That's because it is," Harry agreed. "This is my inheritance we're talking about here. As my guardian, he should have told me about these things." His expression darkened. "Maybe he didn't tell me for a reason. He does have my vault key..."

Hermione was scandalized. "Harry! You don't think he was stealing money from you, do you? That's just going a little too far."

"I can't rule the possibility out though," Harry argued. "Not until I am able to check for myself."

"But Harry."

"Enough," Harry ordered. "I'm sick of people keeping things from me. I want answers."

"Funny, so do I," agreed a familiar voice. The small group turned to see the infuriated face of Ron Weasley. "So, this is what you've all been doing behind my back."

* * *

Ron had been suspicious of his friends' actions the past few days. He didn't miss the looks Hermione and Harry had been giving each other. Lately, Harry hadn't even been playing late night chess with him and every night ever since they returned to Hogwarts, Harry hadn't slept in his bed once. When he had been talking to Lavender and Parvati they said the same things about Hermione.

At first he didn't know what to think. Could Harry and Hermione have been secretly dating? But that didn't make sense because they would, of course, tell Ron. _I'm his best mate!_ So, thinking that nothing was wrong, Ron tried over-looked their odd behaviours but, after the fourth night he just couldn't take it anymore.

Luckily for Ron, Harry's invisibility cloak wasn't long enough for two people. They didn't notice their sneakers showing from under the fabric. And so, Ron followed silently always a decent distance away from their line of sight. He was confident that he wouldn't get caught by any professors since Harry always looked at the Marauder's Map to find the routes that they didn't take. _Where could they be going_ the red-headed boy wondered when they approached the first floor. Finally, the two ducked into Myrtle's bathroom and it hit Ron that they were heading for the Chamber.

By the time he entered, the opening of the Chamber had already been closed. Ron cursed. Now how would he know what they were up to? Thinking back to second year, he tried to remember how Harry opened the chamber. Ron tried hissing at the sink. Nothing happened. _No it was more of a nasal-sounding hiss._ He hissed again. Once again, nothing happened. _Maybe it was more of a high-pitched hiss._ After what seemed like the hundredth time, Ron got it right. The sink slid out of the way, revealing the opening of the Chamber. He gulped. The last time he was here, it was to rescue his sister from You-Know-Who. Gathering his courage, he entered.

Whatever he expected as he entered the atrium, it certainly wasn't this. Ron took a deep breath. Harry, his best mate, and Hermione had been ditching him for Malfoy.

"Enough," he heard Harry ordered. "I'm sick of people keeping things from me. I want answers."

"Funny so do I," Ron said, revealing himself. He took in their surprised looks at his presence. "So, this is what you've all been doing behind my back."

* * *

Hermione was absolutely horrified. The worst possible thing had happened. _This is bad. This is very, very bad._ She looked to her left at Harry who looked equally as horrified and Malfoy who looked amused if nothing else. How did Ron get here? Even more importantly how much did he hear?

"Ron," Harry started. "This isn't what you think it is."

"Isn't what," Ron roared. "That you've both been getting cosy with Malfoy. Does our friendship mean nothing to you?"

"I can explain," Harry explained. He looked at Hermione who shook her head warningly. _But we need to tell him._

"Don't bother. If you want to hang out with a dirty snake be my guest," Ron said with disgust. Angry tears pricked his eyes but he blinked them back before anyone noticed. He turned and ran towards the entrance. _I'll make sure the whole house knows about them hanging out with a ruddy snake._

"No, _Stupefy_ ," someone cried. A red beam of light flew towards the Gryffindor. Ron fell to the ground stunned. Gaping, the two other boys turned towards the only witch in the room who had her wand still pointed at Ron's frozen form.

Hermione breathed heavily, her eyes looking slightly crazed. Harry and Malfoy took a step back.

"Why did you do that," Harry yelled. It was one thing stunning a Death Eater, but she just pointed her wand against her friend.

"I'm sorry, I had too," Hermione explained pleadingly. "If we let him go, everyone would know about what we're doing here. That means Dumbledore would know, and then You-Know-Who would as well, Malfoy and his family would be killed." She continued babbling until Harry gripped her shoulder firmly. She calmed herself down. "First things first, let's tie him up."

"There's no way I'm going to do that," Harry refused firmly. "He's our best mate, Hermione."

"Fine, then we'll just let him give us away then," Hermione snapped. _Doesn't he understand how much of a risk letting Ron go is?_

"That's not what I'm saying."

"Malfoy, help me out," she ordered.

"Where's the please, Granger," Malfoy asked obnoxiously. Of course, _he_ was having the time of his life in this chaos.

"Please."

"This isn't right," Harry argued but his words fell on deaf ears. He watched helplessly as Hermione and Malfoy transfigured a chair and some rope. They tied up the unconscious Ron and stood back, admiring their work.

" _Ennervate,"_ Hermione chanted pointing her wand at their captive.

"What the," Ron said waking up. _Why can't I move_. He looked down only to see ropes restraining him. Scared, he began to yell.

"Ron, calm down," Hermione demanded.

"Hermione?" He was confused. "Why am I tied up?" Suddenly he remembered blacking out trying to leave. He struggled against his bonds. "Oh, Merlin what did you do to me?"

"Ron."

"No," Ron shouted. "You're bloody insane. You attacked me."

"Let me explain," Hermione demanded calmly.

The red-headed Gryffindor's eyes flitted to the only Slytherin in the room. Malfoy stood lazily next to a guilty looking Harry.

"I can't be believe you," Ron snapped. "I thought you thought ferret over here was a Death Eater and now you're buddies?"

"He is a Death Eater," Harry admitted.

Ron's mouth fell open. "What! That's even worse. Why are you _not_ cursing him?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer but Malfoy beat him to it.

"Because they're blackmailing me," he responded nonchalantly enjoying the look of surprise on the Weasley's face.

"Hey we're doing you a favour," countered Hermione. "We're not telling Dumbledore. You should be thanking us."

"And why aren't you telling Dumbledore," Ron cried frustrated. _Why is nothing making sense?_

"If they did my mom and I would be killed," Malfoy answered simply.

Hermione added, "I don't want someone's death on my hands."

"How come you're a death eater," Ron asked Malfoy. "Aren't you a little young?"

"The Dark Lord wants me to kill Dumbledore," Malfoy replied taking satisfaction at the look of horror on Weasley's face."And what better way to do it than to use a student."

"Let me out of here right now," Ron ordered. "I don't know what you're all playing at but this isn't something we're going to hide from the Order. What's the matter with you? Covering for a Death Eater like a traitor."

"Shut up," Hermione yelled. "I'm not going to risk the lives of people just to let a doddering old fool ruin some more lives. We're not telling Dumbledore and that's that." Ron sent a withering glare her way. "Do you even know what the old man did?"

Ron looked confused. Hermione continued, "He let my parents die. The Death Eaters gave me a death threat for my parents. I told our esteemed Headmaster and all he did was take it and tell me to tell no one. Do you know what he did when I came back? He lied to my face and denied having the knowledge of them being at risk in the first place. I don't trust him Ron and I didn't trust you because I knew you would act like this."

She started pacing. "Now I know you feel betrayed, that we broke your trust but what you need to understand is that what we're doing here is so much more than you. More than us in fact and now we have two choices. One is to obliviate you." Ron began to protest but stopped when she held her hand up. "The other is to trust you to once in your life not act like an immature child and help us. Now which is it?"

The Weasley felt conflicted.

"Swear it," Hermione demanded. "Swear you won't tell Dumbledore about anything we do here and we'll tell you everything."

"Just do it Ron," Harry urged weakly. It was painful seeing his friends act like this.

Ron looked like he wanted to argue some more, but finally relented. His shoulders sagged in defeat. "Fine, I swear to never reveal any of whatever it is you all do here to Dumbledore."

"And the Order," Hermione added.

"And the Order." Harry undid the bonds and Ron massaged his now free arms. "Now what exactly is going on."

"After Dumbledore lied to me, I went to the Archives," Hermione began.

"We have Archives," Ron asked.

"Yes! Yes we do, Merlin you all need to-nevermind." Hermione sighed deeply. "Well back to the topic at hand. Where was I? Oh yes, the Archives. I was looking up the Wizarding wars and learned a couple interesting things about our Headmaster. I was cut off from my research when I was kicked out of the library." Ron snorted and the witch gave him a nasty look. "When I came back after lunch, I found out the Dumbledore ordered for the Archives to be sealed off. All the other books on the wars were removed from their shelves. I also found out that all the portraits spy on the students and report back to him which is how he knows what's going on at all times."

"So, it could be for security reasons," Ron noted.

"If so, how did Dumbledore have no idea Malfoy was a Death Eater," Hermione retorted. "I mean he wasn't exactly so discreet about it."

Malfoy was miffed," Hey."

The Gryffindors ignored him.

"Also I just found out that he was hiding the fact that he's my guardian," Harry added wishing to put that in. "And that I have a business. Hiding that from someone is crazy. Like hiding a family business from someone is big, right?" He held out his arms to show how big.

"Yes, Harry it is," Hermione placated.

"Just checking."

"What you're saying is that Dumbledore might of allowed your parents to die, spies on his students, knows Malfoy is a Death Eater, and is keeping secrets from you all for nefarious reasons," Ron recapped. This all sounded like one of those muggle conspiracy/action movies Hermione liked to watch.

"Oh you know what nefarious means, Weasley," Malfoy mock gasped. "Look at you using big words."

"We can hex him right," Ron asked taking out his wand. "Like as long as we don't tell Dumbledore."

"No Ron," Hermione chastised. "He may be a git, but he's still useful to us right now."

"What do you mean still useful," Malfoy asked warily. "I thought I finished my part in this. I got you your articles. Now let me go?"

"No," Hermione refused brightly. "We can still blackmail you so we won't get involved in your Death Eater plots yet, but we will use you. Your next job is to return these articles and wait for further instruction."

 _This ruddy mudblood._ Malfoy stomped away from the group and headed for the entrance, allowing them the time to be alone.

"Glad to have you on board," Harry said clapping Ron on the back.

Hermione added,"I know this is very overwhelming but think of it this like one of our other adventures."

"I don't quite understand why you all don't trust the Order," Ron admitted slowly. "But, I trust you guys and if you say hiding this from them is important then I'll go along with it."

Hermione gave him a brief but tight hug. "You don't understand right now, but you will soon," she promised. "This is the right decision." At least she hoped it was.

* * *

A/N: Reviews are always welcome. Now for some questions and answers:

Chester99: Will this fic have Dramione?

A: Do be honest I haven't really thought of whether to add romance to the fic or not but if I do, then it will most likely be Dramione. I also don't like the Ron/Hermione pairing. I don't hate Ron but I don't like him with Hermione.

And that's it for this chapter. See you all next time!


	6. Scene six

Disclaimer: Nothing in Harry Potter belongs to me.

* * *

"Never forget that your enemies are only human."

-Raymond Tonely (playwright)

* * *

A little more than a month had passed for the gryffindor trio. Between tests, quidditch practice and sending Malfoy to and fro with Daily Prophet articles, little new was discovered, other than one interesting tidbit from a couple Daily Prophet articles. Harry was always mentioned for the 10 years before he arrived to Hogwarts during one specific date, October 31. Every year, Dumbledore had given the world an update on the young Potter's well being as well as fake stories about the boy's life. At least Hermione knew they were fake because she confirmed their authenticity with Harry. Stories about Harry's alleged magical incidents were mainly what they printed. No doubt they were to satisfy the wizarding world that their savior was living a happy life. Other than that, no indication of any sketchy activity the Headmaster may have been involved in were found. Also curiously, there was no mention of the Potter businesses to Harry's annoyance.

 _Of course I knew better than to expect for him to admit anything illegal to the press_ Hermione thought frustrated. _A month isn't enough._ She was thankful she made Ron swear an oath otherwise, he would have revealed them ten times over. He thinks she didn't notice the disapproving looks he aimed her way, but she did. _And it's starting to annoy me._ Speaking of annoying people, Malfoy seemed to also enjoy making her life miserable.

The boy made sure his displeasure about working for them known. Between shooting jabs at Harry and Ron, Malfoy was just being such an obnoxious boor. _Let's not forget all the times he tried to pry the prophecy from Harry,_ Hermione thought tiredly. It was just so hard mediating between the three boys. Another reason why not much was accomplished.

* * *

"Today we will practicing wordless hexes," drawled Professor Snape as he wrote on the board. His lips curled as he looked at his class. _Another group of dunderheads._ "I want everyone to get into groups of two and three. You will all practice shielding yourselves soundlessly while one of your other members shoots a stunning spell at you." He eyed Neville with great disdain. "Now, did you all understand that or do I need to repeat myself?"

No one in the class responded.

"Good," Snape replied.

"How do we do spells silently," Ron complained to the other two. "And it's not just that Greasy git over there..."

"Ron," Hermione scolded.

"It's all the professors. Working us like dogs," Ron continued ignoring Hermione. "It's just the old bat is more of a pain about it." Harry grinned in agreement but wisely kept his mouth shut. As always, Snape was watching his movements like a hawk. His caution was warranted when the git in question loomed silently behind them.

"Just who are you referring to when you say greasy git ," asked Professor Snape who had snuck up on them like a silent bat. The look in his eyes promised pain.

Ron gulped. "N-nothing sir."

"No, Weasley," Snape replied. "I'm sure everyone wants to know who this greasy git is." Ron mumbled something under his breath but not loudly enough for anyone to hear. Snape narrowed his eyes dangerously.

"Detention Weasley, " he hissed.

Ron defended, "But."

"Two nights, Weasley."

"But."

"Three."

"I got Quidditch!"

Snape smiled nastily. "Four nights Weasley." Then he glided away satisfied he ruined another Gryffindor's day. The cursing of Weasley behind him was music to his ears.

His mouth twisted into a smirk. "Five nights Wesley," he added for good measure.

* * *

Ron was still fuming when they finished classes that night. "Greasy-haired, greasy-faced, greasy clothed git," he muttered under his breath. _We have quidditch practice on Thursday. The last one before the tryouts and he just- ugh._

"Yes, we understand that he's a git," Hermione placated. _And that he's greasy._ She really didn't feel much sympathy for Ron though. _It was his fault for insulting Snape in his own class anyway._ Of course Ron wouldn't be able to see that so she didn't speak up.

"Tough luck, buddy," Harry said sympathetically. "Just glad it's you not me."

"You-"

"Are you Harry Potter," a nervous first year asked when she approached the group. "I was told to give you this." She handed Harry a letter and stood anxiously fidgeting.

Harry thanked her and the first year rushed to get away as soon as possible. Quickly he ripped open the letter, scanning the contents.

"What is it," Hermione asked curious. Harry handed the letter to her and Ron.

"Dear Harry," she read. "I would like to start our private lessons this Saturday. Kindly come along to my office at eight p.m. I hope you are enjoying your first day back at school. Yours sincerely, Albus Dumbledore P.S. I enjoy Acid Pops." Hermione frowned. "Acid pops?"

"That's the password for his office," Harry answered.

"Now why couldn't he give me lessons," Ron grumbled. "It would get me out of detention with Snape."

"That's ok," Harry reassured him. "I'll tell you everything he tells me."

"Does he know you're telling us," Hermione queried.

Harry answered," Yes, I asked him when he dropped me off at the Burrow. Said it's alright."

"In that case, I want to come with you," Hermione declared.

Harry and Ron's mouths fell open. "What," they yelled simultaneously. The lessons were meant only for Harry. Dumbledore made that clear what with all the talk about how Harry was the Chosen One.

"If he allows you to tell us everything, then wouldn't it be easier on you if I just come with you?"

"You have a point," Harry conceded reluctantly.

"He can't argue that more people learning how to defeat You-Know-Who isn't better for the cause," Hermione determined. "You have to admit I am the best person at picking things up quickly." _Also I would be able to keep a close eye on how our dear leader interacts with Harry. The amount of control he has over his life is disconcerting._

"Alright," Ron began confidently. "I'll be coming too."

"No," Hermione countered swiftly. " _You're_ just trying to get out of detention."

"Haha, you got me." Ron scratched his head sheepishly.

"Oh and Ron," Hermione reminded. "Don't forget to give the 1986 articles back to Malfoy so he can return them to the Archives. Just write to him alright."

Ron gave a mock salute before he and Harry returned to their dorms. Looks like Thursday would be a busy day for everyone.

* * *

It was during History of Magic when Malfoy saw the familiar glow of a new note appearing in that accursed green notebook. _Come to the bathroom after curfew, Ron._ Malfoy rued the day Granger gave the Weasel the ability to converse with him. _Duty calls._ He never understood why try kept their futile efforts trying to dig up dirt on the old man. _No idiot with half a brain would give anything away to the press. They're looking in the wrong place._ Not that it was any of his business. After all the only thing he had to worry about was killing the old fool. _It's in my interest to keep those Gryffindors happy so they keep looking the other way._

But he hadn't been making progress lately and he didn't have much time. Halloween had already passed and soon it would be Christmas. Time was running out. Soon the Dark Lord would be wanting to hear how far in the plan he was and Malfoy didn't have anything to show for it. _Because those Gryffindors kept working me like a house elf._ He smirked. _Good thing I at least ordered that little trinket for our dear leader of the light._

* * *

" _Are_ you sure 'Mione?"

"Yes and we really should be going." Hermione was already at the portrait looking back at a reluctant Harry.

"It's just, I know you're uncomfortable with being around Dumbledore…"

"And I'm worried about _you_ being around Dumbledore," retorted Hermione. "You know as well as I do how persuasive the man can be. Having me around would help if he tries to brainwash you. You know that."

"I do," Harry agreed. While he still felt some part of him thought the bushy-haired girl was overreacting, after the latest revelations some caution wasn't that unwarranted. The two left in silence, making their way through the hallways they knew so well, towards the gargoyle that guarded the entrance of the Headmaster's office.

"Acid pops," Harry called out tiredly to the gargoyle. It immediately slid out of place allowing the two entry into the office. Hermione rapped on the door smartly, steeling herself for the long-overdue confrontation with the Headmaster.

"Come in," answered Dumbledore from inside. Hermione paused for a moment, unsure if this was really what she wanted to do, then opened the door.

The office was as calm as ever. Fawkes today was absent. _Probably went out for a quick flight_ thought Harry as he took in the sight before him. He hadn't entered the office since the end of fifth year where he destroyed many of the Headmaster's artifacts. Now he could see that many of them had been repaired.

"Ah, Harry my boy wel-." Dumbledore paused once he saw that Harry wasn't alone. His expression darkened suddenly but returned to that of a serene, old man. Hermione was sure had she blinked she would have missed it. She turned to her friend. Harry looked like he did because he gave no impression of anything being wrong.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore greeted warmly. "Are you here for something urgent? As much as I enjoy speaking with you, I'm afraid I need to begin the private lesson with Harry that he no doubt told you about." He smiled softly. "Is it possible to continue this meeting another time?"

"Thank you for your consideration," Hermione answered equally as sweetly. "But, I'm here for another reason." She took a seat to indicate that she wasn't going to be leaving. "After Harry told me about these interesting lessons you had planned for him, I thought it would be better if I joined too."

"Oh and why is that," Dumbledore asked curiously. His voice didn't seem threatening but Hermione knew better.

"Come on sir," she teased but there was no laughter in her eyes. "Surely you know that if it weren't for me, Harry and Ron wouldn't have been able to survive all our little adventures every year." Harry nodded reluctantly but no one paid any mind to him.

Dumbledore laughed heartily at this. "That is true Miss Granger." His eyes twinkled. "Maybe it is better if you are present for these appointments. I must admit, excuse me, being quite a wise man myself that I too had my fair share of rescuing people from their own lack of thought." The look in his eyes suddenly looked less friendly than before. "I only hope you help Harry see things the way they should be seen. He sometimes has the tendencies to pick up on the wrong things."

 _He knows I suspect him_ Hermione realized. She bit her bottom lip nervously. _And he's warning me not to interfere._ Dumbledore stared calmly into her eyes. Hermione's head throbbed. An uncomfortable silence followed before the old man finally leaned back into his seat and smiled warmly at the two once again.

"Shall we get started?"

* * *

The temperature of the office had dropped quite suddenly and Harry felt quite uncomfortable. Those two had completely forgot about him during their weird exchange. He rubbed his eyes for the seventh time. He was sure they were having a friendly conversation, but why did the atmosphere feel more deadly that a Gryffindor/Slytherin Quidditch match. Harry hoped they would stop smiling like that. It was creeping him out.

* * *

"I must say Harry, I was concerned about you," Dumbledore began. "It's finally great to see that you haven't had a detention yet. I was worried that you might have been given one by Professor Snape. He is quite strict. You always do end up looking for trouble"

Harry scratched his head sheepishly. "Actually, it's more like trouble comes looking for me." He grinned. "Also, Snape was distracted by Ron so he left me alone."

"Professor Snape," Dumbledore and Hermione both corrected.

"Sorry sirs." _Merlin, it's like I'm stuck with two teachers._ Harry glared at the two after they burst into laughter.

"That's enough idle chat for now," Dumbledore began in a businesslike voice. " I'm sure you both have been wondering what we'll be doing during these...lessons?"

"Yes sir," the two Gryffindors responded.

"I've decided it's time for me to tell you about the real reason why Lord Voldemort decided to kill you all those years ago." Dumbledore paused for dramatic effect. "It's time for you to be given certain information."

Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"I thought you said you were going to tell me everything," Harry accused blandly. _Merlin, it's like watching only a movie trailer with him._

"And so I did," Dumbledore confessed calmly. " I told you everything I know."

 _Oh that we know for sure is a lie,_ Hermione thought while folding hands over her lap. Dumbledore's eyes flicked towards her momentarily before returning to Harry.

"From this point forward, we will be leaving the foundation of fact and entering the foggy grounds of guesswork. I may be as woefully wrong as Humphrey Belcher, who believed the time was ripe for a cheese cauldron."

"And you think you're right," Hermione asked.

"Naturally I do," Dumbledore answered. "As i have already proven to Harry here, I make mistakes like the next man. In fact, being,forgive me, rather cleverer than most men,

my mistakes tend to be correspondingly huger."

 _Fair enough_ Hermione admitted mentally. _But, I have a feeling that you are not merely guessing._ She looked up from her lap and saw that the Headmaster was looking right at her again.

"This has to do with the prophecy right, sir," Harry asked. "It'll help me survive right?"

"It has a great deal to do with the prophecy," Dumbledore confirmed. " And I certainly hope it will help you survive."

Harry groaned in his mind. _Why must he always be so vague?_

Dumbledore left his seat and walked towards a cabinet at the other end of the office. He bent down and opened the cabinet, reaching for a shallow stone basin that was familiar to Harry. Hermione gasped softly beside him. It was the first time she saw a Pensieve after all.

"Have you ever had the chance to use one of these Miss Granger," the old man asked.

"No," Hermione answered excitedly. "But I've read all about them. They're the basins that allow you to view memories you store in it. It's awfully useful. I wish I had one. It would make studying so much easier to do." She stopped talking once she saw the amused expressions on the wizards' faces. She flushed. It seemed she had been babbling again.

Suddenly she was confused. How would a Pensieve help? She thought these private lessons would be about defeating You-Know-Who. How come they weren't practicing spells?

"Where are we going," asked Harry who seemed to be going with the flow at this point. The old man wanted to show him a memory, well go right ahead. _It's not like I expected to be taught actual spells to kill the Dark Lord. Why teach Harry self defence, just show him a memory and get him to figure it out like Nancy Drew. He'll be fine._

Luckily, he could tell Hermione was equally appalled. Looks like they both got their hopes up for nothing.

Dumbledore on the other hand, didn't notice their disgust. "We'll be taking a trip down Bob Ogden's memory lane," he responded pulling a crystal bottle containing the silvery-white memory.

"Who was Bob Ogden?"

"He worked for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Dumbledore said. _The DMLE_ Hermione realized. _The same place Madam Bones worked at._ She made note to keep that name in the back of her head. It might be important later. "He died some time ago," Dumbledore continued. "Luckily, I persuaded him to confined these recollections to me. What we will be doing is accompanying him on a visit he made in course of his duties. If you will stand here, Miss Granger, Harry."

He pointed his wand at the bottle, hiding his injured hand from view and the cork flew out. He tipped the memory into the Pensieve. "Ladies first," he gestured towards the nervous female.

Hermione took a tentative step towards the bowl. "How do I do this?"

"Plunge your face into it," Harry encouraged. Hermione took a deep breath and dipped her face into the bowl, her eyes squeezed tight. A peculiar sensation overcome her, not unlike that of a portkey. The feeling of her feet being lifted off the floor and and fall down towards the darkness and then just as suddenly, the darkness was lifted and Hermione strained her eyes in the sudden brightness. She heard the thumps of Harry and Dumbledore landing and whirled around to face them.

The sight before her left her in awe. They were standing on a country lane beneath the warm summer sun. It still felt surreal to the girl as the entire atmosphere felt like they were submerged in water but still able to feel the sun's rays. A memory certainly was not like real life was it Hermione realized as she moved her hand around the liquid air experimentally.

"Yes, the first time in a Pensieve is interesting, isn't it Miss Granger," Dumbledore inquired, eyes twinkling. Hermione never got to respond when she was distracted by the sight of small, plump bespectacled man who was walking purposefully down the lane. The man stopped to read the sign before starting to go back to wherever he was heading to. Harry figured this must of been Ogden, being the only person present to record the memory of the road.

The group followed. Hermione and Harry read the sign: Great Hangleton, 5 miles, Little Hangleton, 1 mile. The walk was short, the group passed the first bundle of hedges before reaching a steep hilltop where they saw the village of Little Hangleton in all of its entirety. Ogden made a sharp turn around one of the hedges where Harry and Hermione saw the most bleak house they had ever laid eyes on. The overgrown trees covered the shack in an almost sinister darkness. Hermione wrinkled her nose. Why anyone would allow their house to be covered in that much filth was anyone's guess.

Harry narrowed his eyes, fully focused solely on the wizard they were tailing. Ogden seemed visibly more anxious than before. His wand was firmly in his hand. Ogden moved slowly, quietly approaching the door with caution. He stopped suddenly, and Harry heard Hermione give a little scream behind him. There was a decayed dead snake nailed on the door. Dried blood spatter caked the door and Ogden looked even less eager to knock.

" _You're not welcome_ ," growled a gruff voice from behind Ogden making the little man jump as well as Hermione and Harry. Dumbledore kept his calm something Hermione would note later.

The man who rudely called out to the ministry wizard was as dirty as the house in front of them was. His eyes looked in different directions and he looked altogether frightening.

"G-Good morning," Ogden stuttered before clearing his voice. "I'm from the Ministry of Magic."

" _I said_ ," the man growled again. " _You're not welcome_."

 _What is he saying,_ Hermione wondered. _He's just hissing...oh wait._

"You understanding him don't you Harry," Dumbledore asked Harry voicing the question she was about to ask.

"Why can't Ogden understand," Harry replied before he caught sight of the nailed snake. "He speaks Parseltongue?"

"Very good Harry."

Hermione spoke up," Only descendants of Slytherin can speak Parseltongue. Just who is that man." Finally it all clicked. "This man, this house. This is where You-Know-Who's family lived." Harry's head flicked toward her, shocked.

"Very good Miss Granger," Dumbledore complimented though his smile was a bit strained.

"Then that man. He's Voldemort's father," Harry cried.

"Not quite," Dumbledore answered.

Their discussion was stopped when a loud bang interrupted. The man holding a knife in one hand and a wand in the other had shot a spell at the Ministry wizard. Ogen lay on the ground clutching his nose which was squirting yellow pus. Hermione clucked her tongue disapprovingly.

"Morfin," yelled a loud voice.

An eldery version of the crazy man had emerged from the shack. He was shorter that the man but clearly held more authority. However much authority the even dirtier old man had.

"Ministry," he grunted at Ogden.

"Damn right I am," Ogden shot back forgetting himself. He took a moment to compose himself. "And you, I take it, are ?"

"Should've known better than to trespass then," Gaunt retorted aggressively. "This is private property. Can't just expect my son not to defend himself."

Harry raised his eyebrows looking at the non-threatening Ogden. _What was he defending himself from?_

Ogden seemed to be thinking the same thing. "Defending himself against what," he cried.

"Intruders, nosy people, muggles and filth."

Ogden pointed a wand at his nose stopping the pus flow at once. While he was busy, Gaunt hissed at Morfin. " _Get in the house, don't argue."_

"What are they saying," Hermione whispered to Harry who ignored her, preoccupied with the scene. Morfin looked like he wanted to disagree but the threatening look on his father's face stopped him.

"I'm here for you son," Ogden declared removing the last few stains of pus from his coat. "That man was Morfin, right?"

"Was Morfin," Gaunt admitted. "Are you a pureblood," he asked suddenly.

"I don't say why that would be any of your business," Ogden replied cooly. Gaunt looked like he wanted to attack the man himself. "Perhaps, we should continue this discussion inside."

"Inside, what do we need to go inside for?"

"As, I've said, "Ogden began again. "I am here following a serious breach of Wizarding law, which occurred here in the early hours of this morning..."

"Alright, get in," Gaunt relented.

The interior of the house was no better than the outside. Inside were three small room where the main room was both the kitchen and the living room combined. Morfin was already inside playing with an adder while singing a tune that chilled Harry.

 _Hissy, hissy, little snakey,_

 _Slither on the floor_

 _You be good to Morfin_

 _Or he'll nail you to the door._

Hermione gave up asking Harry for translations after seeing his face. She didn't think she wanted to know whatever it was that Morfin had been saying. As she inspected the house she noticed that there was one other person who almost seemed to blend with the walls of the house. A girl in a ragged, grey dress was standing over a pot that was steaming over a dirty, black stove. The girl had a plain appearance, Harry noted. He had never seen a more defeated looking person.

"M'daughter, Merope," Gaunt introduced noticing Ogden's inquiring gaze.

"Good morning," Ogden greeted but received no response. He turned back to the male Gaunts. "Now to business. Morfin performed magic in front of a Muggle last night."

A clang resounded in the room. Merope had dropped one of the pots and looked like a frightened deer. She scrambled down to pick it up.

"That's it, crawl on the floor like some filthy muggle. Use your wand you useless sack of muck," Gaunt sneered.

" ," Ogden pleaded scandalized when Merope clumsily tried to summon the pot but instead caused it to shoot away from her, hit the wall and crack in two.

"Mend it," Gaunt screamed.

Merope fled to the other end of the room, but luckily Ogden rose his wand and said ," Reparo." He felt the need to spare her from her father's abuse.

Hermione noticed Gaunt's face turn a strange shade of purple and seemed ready to shout at Ogden but wisely kept his mouth shut. He turned to the only person he could bully. Gaunt taunted his daughter, "Lucky the nice ministry man was here to help, isn't it? Perhaps he'll take you out of my hands, doesn't mind dirty squibs."

Merope gave no indication of being spoken to and wordlessly picked up the pot and returned it to its proper place on the shelf. She went back to the wall that was coloured like her dress and almost seemed to blend in the background.

" ." Ogden tried once again to state the reason for his visit. "As I've said, I have come to…"

"I hear you the first time," bellowed.

"Morfin has broken the wizarding world," Ogden stated firmly.

Gaunt imitated Ogden's voice in a high falsetto," Morfin has broken Wizarding law." Morfin cackled. "He taught that filthy muggle a lesson. That against the law now?"

"Yes," Ogden replied pulling a small scroll of parchment and began to scan it.

"Well out with it," Gaunt barked. "What's his sentence."

"It is summons to the Ministry for a hearing," Ogden said clearly and sternly.

"Summons," Gaunt barked. "Who do you think you are, sum-"

"I'm the Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad," Ogden interjected.

"Do you think we're scum," Gaunt screamed. "Do you know who you're talking to you filthy little Mudblood?" He showed Ogden his middle finger. For a second it looked to Harry and Hermione as if he was flipping the old wizard off but, realized that Gaunt was showing the ugly ring on the finger. It was a black-stoned ring in the shape of a diamond. "Do you see this? It's been in our family for centuries. Purebloods all the way! Peverell coat of arms!"

"I have no idea," blustered Ogden, bewildered about why that had anything to do with the man's son. "But, that's beside the point, . Your son-"

Gaunt ignored him and ran to his daughter, grasping her by the chain at her throat and dragging her towards the frightened wizard. The gold chain strained in the old man's grip.

"See this," he yelled at Ogden. Merope struggled and gasped for breath.

"Yes, I see it," Ogden cried wanting the man to let the girl go.

"Slytherins! It's Salazar Slytherins. We're his last living descendants. What about that?"

"Let go of your daughter," Ogden urged. Luckily Gaunt was finished with the point he was trying to make. Merope stumbled back to her corner, shivering and gasping for air. "Now our ancestors have nothing to do with the issue at hand. Your son performed a jinx on a Muggle, causing him to erupt in highly painful hives."

"So what if he did," Gaunt countered. "You wiped the muggle's filthy face clean."

"He attacked a defenceless Muggle. Your son _will_ attend a hearing on the fourteenth and he _will_ answer the charges of using magic in front of a Mu-"

He was cut off by the sound of the clopping hooves of horses and loud, laughing voices in the distance. The road was ridiculously close to the shack amplifying the noises of the outside. Everyone was silent. Morfin hissed dangerously and looked hungrily at the open window. Merope raised her head and Hermione saw that her face had turned pale.

"My God, what an eyesore," A girl's voice rang out. "Couldn't your father have that hovel cleared away, Tom?"

"It's not ours," answered a young man's voice. "This side of the valley doesn't belong to us. Belongs to a tramp actually. Gaunt and his children. Son's mad you know. You should hear the stories they tell in the village."

"Tom," the girl shrieked after a moment. "Someone nailed a snake to that door."

"Good lord," the man replied. "Must be the son. Don't look at it, Cecilia, darling."

The clopping sounds grew faint.

"Darling," Morfin hissed. "He called her Darling. Who would have you?"

Merope paled even further. Hermione had a bad feeling.

"What's that," asked Gaunt sharply in Parseltongue looking from his son to his daughter. "What did you say, Morfin?"

A vicious expression formed on Morfin's face. "She likes looking at the Muggle," he responded gleefully. "Always hanging by the window watching him pass, waiting for him to ride home. And last night-"

Merope desperately shook her head.

"Looking at a Muggle," Gaunt whispered.

Ogden sat forgotten in the corner, uncomfortable by the exchange of hissing the family was having.

"Is it true?" said Gaunt in a deadly voice, advancing a step or two toward the terrified girl. Hermione reached out unconsciously wanting to stop the man from what would happen next. "My daughter a pure-blooded descendant of Salazar Slytherin, hankering after a filthy, dirt-veined Muggle?"

Merope stood cornered at her wall, shaking her head frantically.

"I got the bugger Father," Morfin crowed. "Got him in his pretty face, right Merope?"

"You disgusting little blood traitor," roared Gaunt, losing control, and rushed towards his daughter and grabbed her by the throat.

Hermione, Harry and Ogden all yelled," No." It was Ogden whoever, who cast," Relaskio!"

Gaunt flew backwards, away from his daughter and crashed into the ground. Morfin, enraged, rushed towards Ogden, firing hexes from his wand.

Ogden fled. Dumbledore gestured for the group to follow and they left the shack, Merope's screams echoing in their ears.

Ogden flew down the path and into the main lane. His view was covered by his arms which he kept over his head for protection. Without the ability to see, the little man crashed into a chestnut horse, ridden by a man Harry recognized well. _Tom Riddle._ But there was no way the man could be him, the face was much older than he remembered. Both he and the pretty girl beside him roared with laughter at the sight of the frightened Ogden who set off again, running for his life.

"That will be all," Dumbledore suddenly said grabbing Hermione and Harry by the elbow and tugged. That feeling came again. The feeling of their feet leaving the floor and hurtling towards the darkness. The next thing, the two Gryffindors knew, they were on the floor of Dumbledore's office adjusting to the light.

"Professor," Hermione cried suddenly remembering. " What happened to the girl, Merope?"

"Oh she was fine," Dumbledore reassured. "After Ogden left, he called for backup. The Ministry was there in fifteen minutes and managed to subdue and his son, Morfin. Morfin, who already had a track record of assaulting Muggles was sentenced to three years in Azkaban. Marvolo, for resisting arrest was sentenced to six months."

"Marvolo?" Hermione furrowed her eyebrows.

Harry's eyes widened in understanding. "That old man was…"

"Yes Harry," Dumbledore beamed. "Glad you're keeping up."

"Marvolo had a nasty tempered, no doubt powered by the lack of wealth his family had. He only treasured a couple family heirlooms and had a considerably high amount of pride in his blood. He cared more for those than his own daughter."

"So that girl," Harry began. "Was Voldemort's mother."

"Very good Harry," Dumbledore praised. "We also saw Voldemort's father. Did you notice who it was?"

This time it was Hermione who answered. "The man on the horse."

"They ended up married," Harry scoffed.

"Merope was a witch," Dumbledore reminded.

"A Love Potion perhaps," Hermione suggested. "Or the Imperius."

Dumbledore admitted," I'd like to think she used a love potion. It would have been a more romantic gesture. Convince the parched Riddle to have a glass of water in a hot summer day. You can imagine the gossip it caused when the squire's son ran off with the tramp's daughter, Merope."

"But Merope died didn't she," Harry asked. "Voldemort was brought up in an orphanage."

"Now comes the guesswork," Dumbledore started. "After a few months of their runaway marriage, Riddle returned to Little Hangleton telling a tale about being hoodwinked. No doubt Merope believed that if she had his child, there would be no need for the love potion. Of course she was delusional because he left her anyway. Slowly she stopped performing magic and lost the will to live. Merope died bringing Voldemort into the world. The young Tom Riddle grew up alone in that orphanage."

Harry looked down feeling incredible pity for the man who ruined so many lives.

"Could you possibly be feeling sorry for Voldemort?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows catching his gaze.

"No of course not," Harry responded quickly.

"I do," answered Hermione. "Grown up without anyone bothering to care for him. You-Know-Who is pitiful. None of his actions can be excused but…"

"You find pity in the man who killed your parents," Dumbledore inquired looking at the girl with great interest.

Hermione didn't appreciate being treated like a specimen. "Yes," she corrected a little hotly. "I do pity him, but that does not mean I won't allow him to face justice. To face justice for such _unnecessary_ deaths. I'm sure you understand what I'm trying to say." _Yes you old man. You are just as guilty for the tragedies that occurred in this war._

Dumbledore affirmed softly," Yes I understand."

"Well I for one don't," Harry added. "I just want him gone so people would stop trying to kill me every year of my life." He chuckled at his own joke before turning his laugh into a cough awkwardly once he noticed the other occupants of the room were not as amused.

"Anyway," Dumbledore said ignoring the boy's comment. "That will be all for this evening."

"Sir," Harry asked tentatively. "What happened to your hand."

Dumbledore just beamed at him in response. "I'm afraid that's a story for another time Harry. Now off you two go. It's far past your bedtimes."

* * *

"That's a story for another time, Harry," Hermione mimicked the old Headmaster. "Guesswork my arse. That old man knew exactly what he was showing us and was merely asking you comprehension questions like an English Professor."

"'Mione careful," Harry whispered. " The portraits." He glanced around at the many painted men who suddenly gained an interest in them.

"I don't care anymore," Hermione yelled. She looked thoughtfully at her friend. " Now that you were given this considerably important amount of information on You-Know-Who, what are you going to do about it?"

"There is nothing we can do," Harry confessed bitterly. "We'll just have to wait until Dumbledore's next lesson."

Hermione gripped the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. "See this is why it was a good idea for me to come with you."

"Why?"

"Harry." Hermione spoke slowly as if to a small child. "We have all this information about You-Know-Who: who his parents were, where they lived, when they lived, their lineage, all this information. Useful, _traceable_ information."

"So?"

"That means we can find the rest ourselves. You-Know-Who's birth records, Morfin's arrest report, Merope's death certificate. You-Know-Who went to Hogwarts so the teachers probably remember him. Come on, Harry think!"

Harry thought for a moment before finally getting what the witch was trying to say, " We don't need to wait for Dumbledore's next lesson. We can find the information ourselves."

"Yes," Hermione cried, relieved that he finally got it. "Do you know how we can find theses information?"

"Through the archives, awards, Ministry records," Harry replied eagerly now that his mind was properly functioning.

"Very good Harry," Hermione said once again mimicking Dumbledore's low voice. They both laughed completely forgetting where they were.

"Hey Harry," Hermione asked wiping a tear from her eye. " You think any of the portraits will tell Dumbledore about what we're saying right now?"

"Most likely."

"In that case." she yelled, " You suck old man and I hope you heard that!"

"Hermione!"

"What," she defended. "It's his fault for eavesdropping. You know what you should teach me Parseltongue. Then no one would know what we'd be saying."

"There's a couple portraits of Salazar Slytherin hanging around," Harry reminded.

"Damnit!"

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"How much sleep did you get last night?" He looked at the bushy-haired witch's completely exhausted expression.

"Two hours why?"

"...nothing nevermind." They reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, entered the common room, and went their separate ways.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. Please review. For every review I will chug a glass of chocolate milk so look forward to that!


	7. Scene Seven

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I would make Hermione run for President.

* * *

"Sudden death hits you like a punch to the gut. Murder hits you like a knife in the back."

\- Finicky Knealio, Coroner/Healer

* * *

"Did you bring what I asked you, Mal-ferret," Hermione asked while poring through the school registry. A disgruntled Malfoy gave her a book of the school awards records which she then handed to Ron.

"Malfoy," the Slytherin corrected. "And may I ask why you're looking up this Riddle fellow?"

"No you may not, now go sit in the corner and keep quiet." Knowing he had no other choice, Malfoy grudgingly obeyed.

"Look here," Harry interrupted, grabbing Hermione by the arm. He pointed to a picture of a handsome youth similar to the man they saw in Ogden's memory. "Brief description," he read. "An excellent student. One of the brightest Hogwarts ever seen. Enjoyed Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts...wow ironic. He was a Potions prodigy blah blah. Oh and a hopeful candidate for Minister of Magic! He's like a mini you, Hermione."

She swatted her friend's arm. "Please don't compare me to a psycho."

"You act pretty psychotic," Malfoy muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," he lied. "Shutting up and going to the corner now."

"Good."

Ron spoke up, "Hey check this out. You- er _Riddle_ was given ten awards. The top two are for Potions and Charms both Newt-level."

"Thank you captain obvious," Harry retorted. " But we already know that."

"Let me finish mate." Ron shot Harry a glare. "The professors who signed the awards are _Flitwick and Slughorn._ "

"Ron you're brilliant," Hermione squealed. She snatched the awards records from his hands. "Actually, most of the professors that taught during his school years still teach us now! Let's talk to them after lunch."

"I am no longer needed right," Malfoy asked hopefully.

"You're staying on standby," Hermione chirped brightly.

* * *

Madam Pince sat nervously at the Great Table. The headache had subsided a day ago and she was beginning to feel somewhat like herself again. But why did she feel so uneasy?

"Pumpkin juice," Dumbledore offered kindly, snapping her out of her thoughts. "You look a little green. Sometimes what a person needs is a drink."

 _He's right._ She gratefully poured herself a glass and took a sip. _Sweet. But I wish we could drink something else during meals. It's been a while since I had a nice glass of fire whiskey._ Madam Pince coughed. Her throat felt like something was lodged in there. _The pulp hadn't been properly blended. Must have drunk too quickly again._ A sharp pain constricted her chest. _What the?_ Shakily, she tried to get up, call for help but she lost all her strength and collapsed.

* * *

The Great Hall was bustling with activity as students relayed the events of their day. The Gryffindor trio sat in silence tired from two nights of intense research. At this point in time, they were grateful for any break especially meals.

"Do you want to take the rest of the day off," Ron asked between mouthfuls of potato.

"Yes," Harry answered before Hermione could.

 _Cough._ The trio looked to where the sound was coming from. What they saw was an ill looking Madam Pince who quickly downed her glass of pumpkin juice to calm her throat.

"Fine," Hermione said turning back to her friends. " We'll take today off, but we're going back to it tomorrow alright."

 _Cough. Cough._ Madam Pince didn't seem to get over her choking. Now the entire Great Hall was looking toward the Great Table where the librarian was doubling over in a fit.

"What's going on," called out one student.

"Do not be alarmed," Dumbledore reassured. " We'll be taking Madam Pince to the hospital wing. Enjoy your-"

 _Crash._ Madam Pince tried to stand but fell face flat onto the ground sending the goblet in her hand flying. Dumbledore's expression grew grave.

He ordered, " Take her to the Hospital Wing."

"Now," the old man yelled once he saw the professors hesitate getting up. Professor Flitwick leapt to his feet and levitated the unconscious librarian and rushed out of the Great Hall.

"Everyone, please have a seat," requested the Headmaster. "I'm sure Madam Pince will be alright." Once he was sure he had calmed down the crowd, he quickly left the Great Hall also and the student burst into chatter.

"Bloody hell," Ron breathed which summed up everyone's reaction.

 _Could it have been?_ Harry looked at Malfoy, but the boy seemed just as confused as everyone else. _Not him then._

"Maybe it was a heart attack," Neville suggested. "My gram's brother had one a couple years back. Happens all the time."

"No I don't think it was a heart attack," Hermione responded looking right at the spot where the Headmaster was sitting. Harry followed her line of sight and rolled his eyes.

"Of _course_ ," he muttered. _Of course she would think he had something to do with it._

Ignoring him, Hermione kept her eyes glued to the Great table. Dumbledore usually sat next to Professor Mcgonagall. Today he just happens to change seats and now Madam Pince is gravely ill. His actions are just so obvious, but no one would ever suspect the previous Savior. She made up her mind.

"Let's give Madam Pince a visit after lunch," Hermione declared.

* * *

The doors for the Hospital wing were closed. Hermione knocked on the doors and turned to her friends.

"Ok, remember, act like you're in pain," she ordered

"I am in pain," yelled a limping Ron. "You fractured my shin bone."

"Which you agreed to," Hermione reminded. "Toughen up. It's not like Harry broke it."

"Cheer up mate," Harry comforted cheerfully. "You don't know real pain until you've lost all the bones in your right arm."

"Then why didn't you volunteer?"

"I'm not an idiot. Who _volunteers_ to fracture themselves."

"Shut up," Hermione hissed as the doors began to open.

"Y-yes, what is it," called out a sobbing Madam Pomphrey. The woman looked awful. Her eyes were bloodshot and tear tracks were visible on her wrinkled face.

"What on earth," Hermione babbled alarmed. "What happened?"

"I-it's Madam Pince." The woman broke down into another wave of tears.

Hermione pushed past the nurse and barged into the hospital wing. The librarian lay on the first bed with her entire body covered except for her left arm which limply hanged off the bed. It was a sickly shade of grey.

The Gryffindor threw the covers off Madam Pince and covered her mouth in shock. Her eyes had rolled to the back of her head. Hermione picked up the librarian's hand and checked for a pulse. There was none.

"She's dead," she cried out in disbelief.

* * *

"I tried so hard," the nurse repeated softly while dabbing her eyes with a napkin. She had quickly made Ron sit on one of the available beds and given him some skele-grow. Hermione was flipping through some of the files on the nurse's desk.

"Do you know why she died," Harry asked kindly.

"No," she answered. "There's still many tests I need to do- dear please don't touch that," she said to Hermione who was looking through one of the files.

"It says here that there was no trace of poison in her system," Hermione stated ignoring her orders.

"That's why I'm so baffled," responded Madam Pomfrey. "All of her organs just shut down without warning."

Harry queried, " How is that possible?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. It's like her own body went against her and killed itself." Madam Pomfrey sat up taller now that she came down a bit, almost back to her clinical self. "I have seen these symptoms before as there are some known potions that can cause this phenomenon. In fact I suspect that the fi-" She stopped mid way.

"You suspect what," Hermione urged.

"You have to go," the nurse demanded.

"But-"

Madam Pomfrey began to push Harry and Hermione out the room. "Don't worry about your friend I'll have him patched up and sent your way too." Once she successfully got them out of the hospital wing she slammed the door.

* * *

"What did I tell you," shouted Snape. The aura of nonchalance his boss had was beginning piss him off. "Show some more reaction old man."

"You were right, Severus," Dumbledore admitted tiredly. "What more do you want me to say?"

"A person, _a human being_ , is dead because of us."

"Surely this isn't the first person you've killed," Dumbledore countered bluntly. He watched with satisfaction as the other man seemed to shrink with guilt. The trick to handling the Death Eater spy was to remind him of his crimes. It was terrible, yes, but was necessary. _The old stick and the carrot routine._ That was the stick, now came the carrot.

"Severus, it's not your fault," Dumbledore assured kindly. "You're right it's mine. I make mistakes just like any other man, but we need can't stop now. Everything-no everyone depend on the plan. So, no other person will end up like Lily." Snape's head snapped up at the name. Dumbledore inwardly smiled. _Oh, so predictable. "_ Please continue looked after little Harry. You're doing a great job."

"She overdosed on the fidelity potion," Snape reiterated. "Her own body committed suicide because she betrayed you. I should have never agreed to do it. I'm no different than the Death eater I used to be."

 _Very good._ Dumbledore celebrated. _He's blaming himself. Now he should be as malleable as clay._ "No Severus, you are different. You showed remorse. And what we're doing right now is so much bigger than us."

"It's for the Greater Good," Snape whispered.

"That's right," Dumbledore proudly agreed. "Someday the world will thank us. Now go have some rest, Severus. You need it." Snape left silently.

Dumbledore relaxed back into his armchair. "Don't look at me like that, Fawkes. You're job is to observe not judge." He popped a lemon drop into his mouth.

Fawkes trilled loudly and if Dumbledore didn't know better he could have sworn the phoenix was laughing at him.

* * *

The three decided it would be Hermione who stayed back and asked professor Flitwick about Riddle. The witch waited until everyone else left and made her way towards the professor.

"Um, professor," she called out sheepishly making sure to look shy and bashful.

"What do you need," Flitwick asked warmly. He took a seat and gestured for her to do the same.

Hermione sat. "We're doing this project in History where we research on a previous Hogwarts graduate. Professor Binns assigned our group with a man named Tom Riddle." She looked at the man for some form of recognition.

Flitwick looked almost excited. "Oh yes! Tom Riddle. He was such a bright student. Good at every subject he learned. It was a pleasure teaching him. So polite."

 _Not what I would expect anyone to say about a Dark Lord._ "Do you know anything about what he might have done after he graduated, like a job?"

"You mean you don't know," Flitwick asked befuddled. "Didn't you get the chance to research?"

"Well." Hermione lowered her voice to a mock whisper. "I was put in a group with Malfoy and I really want to get this project over with."

The Charms professor nodded his head understandingly. "I see , I see. The boy can be quite difficult. You see, after Tom graduated, all of us professors followed his life closely. We were sure we were looking at the next Minister of magic! Instead he chose to work at a store. A place called Borgin and Burke's. We were all disappointed when we found out."

Hermione made a mental note. _Borgin and Burke's._ "And then what did he do," she asked eagerly.

"That's the thing. No one know. He disappeared."

* * *

 _Until a new librarian enter Hogwarts, no material is allowed to be taken out of the facility._

Those words were on the new sign that was posted on the doors of the library. When Hermione left to check on their source of information she was welcomed by the sight of the Archive doors once open now padlocked and covered in chains. She bit back a curse.

* * *

"So basically you found out nothing," Malfoy said bluntly.

"Except that even the professors think you're a prick," Ron retorted. Hermione cast a barrier between the two boys before things quickly got out of hand.

"We found out Riddle worked at that dark objects store," Harry offered optimistically. "That's a plus."

"Well besides all that rot," Malfoy interrupted. "What I take from this is that now that the Archives are closed, I am no longer needed." When no-one responded, he clapped his hands and turned to leave. "Right then, let's never talk again."

"If you leave the chamber right now, I will reveal you Dumbledore," Hermione threatened.

"But you said you wouldn't," Malfoy countered fearfully.

"I want you right where I can supervise you. So unfortunately we still have to _talk,"_ she snapped.

"Sorry mate," Harry said unapologetically. "But, leaving a Death Eater to his own devices is not a part of the plan. There are people after my life you know."

"But I'm not after _yours_ ," Malfoy pleaded almost desperately. "I've gotten nowhere with the assassination and if I fail you all know what will happen."

"Well sucks to be-," Ron began.

Hermione interjected, "We're not going to interfere with that. I highly doubt you would be able to kill Dumbledore anyway. If _Harry_ could see through you…" She ignored her friend's, "Hey." "Then so can the most powerful man alive."

Malfoy kept silent, the weight of his job becoming apparent to him.

The witch asked, "What was your plan anyway?"

"None of your business," he growled.

Hermione shrugged. "Fine. Now we need to plan our next moves. Christmas break is approaching and I think we all know that we're not spending another minute in this castle if we can help it."

"Wait, you're not going to make me tell you my plans, " inquired Malfoy.

"No," Hermione answered. "The less we know the better. It gives the Ministry and perhaps the Order less chance of placing the blame on Harry and us again if anything happens. We don't want a repeat of fifth year" Harry winced.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "That's quite sneaky for a Gryffindor." Ron looked at her disapprovingly.

"Yes, Malfoy, it's called having more than one personality trait," Hermione retorted. She muttered, "Why we let a singing, talking hat decide our paths in life is beyond me."

"Enough," Harry demanded. If they kept fighting, nothing would get done. "Let's get back to planning." He added, " please." Thankful he had everyone's attention, the Boy-Who-Lived began," Well my biggest concern is that I never knew anything about my parents' wills or family businesses or who my guardian is. Where can I find all that stuff out?"

"Gringotts," Malfoy answered automatically. "Just give them proof of your heritage and everything would take care of itself. They would have to serve you considering that you come from a very important family, though you're a half blood." He wrinkled his nose.

"And what type of stuff would an heir to an important family expect," Harry continued.

This time it was Ron who replied, "Typical stuff like businesses and money and the like but, since you come from one of the pureblood 28, you can expect a lordship as well as a seat in the Wizengamot."

"I can expect what," Harry shouted.

"Ron, how do you know about all of this," Hermione asked.

"It's everything a member of a pureblood family learns about," Ron replied.

Malfoy added, "It's true."

Harry yelled, "Why didn't you tell me about any of this." He wanted to strangle the red head.

Ron looked guilty. "Sorry mate, I thought you knew."

"Well I didn't," Harry snapped. "I don't know about anything." _It's so frustrating._ Why did no one tell him anything?

"Ron, please take Malfoy back to his common room," Hermione requested gently. She needed to calm Harry down.

* * *

"So, Weasley, how does it feel to be the most useless member in this messed up group," Malfoy asked maliciously as they left the Chamber.

The Gryffindor boy said nothing.

"Granger's smart, Potter's a bloody icon," Malfoy continued."Even I'm useful as their gopher and I'm your enemy. What do you have to offer?"

"Just shut up," Ron weakly countered.

Malfoy clapped the boy on the shoulder. "Just giving you something for you to think about." He entered the Slytherin common room satisfied he made Weasley feel as miserable about the situation as he was.

 _He's right,_ Ron realized as he trudged back to the Chamber. _I'm not useful at all._ He thought back to the other adventures the Gryffindor trio had. _Even then, it was all Harry and Hermione doing everything. All I'm good at is chess._ Ron remembered his actions during fourth year where he forsaked Harry because the goblet chose him. _Not even a good friend._

 _Wait…_ The gears in his head began to turn. If this could work- not it _had_ to work. He formulated a plan. It would have to be executed during the Christmas break, just before New Year's day. The problem was convincing her without letting her think he was following Percy's footsteps. No matter, Ron could be persuasive when he needed to be. No longer would he sit back while his friends struggled by themselves. _Think of it like another chess game,_ the red head convinced himself. He walked with more purpose. Ron did have something to offer. He had blood.

* * *

Two weeks passed like a flash and finally Christmas break arrived. The library was still closed and Hermione doubted it would ever be opened again. Dumbledore had pulled Harry aside more than once to convince him to remain at Hogwarts but, once caught wind that the Headmaster was going to keep her from her goal of fattening the boy up, she sent multiple Howlers. Sure enough, the Headmaster backed off.

"What's the plan," Ron whispered once they got a compartment for themselves in the train.

"I'm going to Borgin and Burkes," Hermione answered. "Who better to ask about Riddle than his own employer?" She saw her friends' worried expressions. "Don't worry I can handle myself."

"And you," Ron asked Harry.

"Gringotts," the boy hero responded. "I'm getting my life back into my own hands."

 _Good, I'll be alone._ Ron nodded and they passed the rest of the ride in silence.

gave them the biggest hug when she picked them up from the station and took them to the Burrow. The rest of the day was filled with her trying to give them as much food as possible. "Do they even feed you at that school," she clucked. With warm food in their stomachs and the thought of the mission in their minds, the three collapsed in their rooms and slept.

"Thanks for the food," Harry thanked between bites of bacon during breakfast the next day.

"No problem dearie," answered warmly.

"Mum," Ron interrupted. "We were wondering if you'd let us visit Fred and George's shop today."

"Sure," agreed brightly. "They're thinking of expanding you know. Oh those boys." She gushed. "Go clean up," she urged. "You can leave once you do."

"We'll separate once we get to Diagon Alley," Hermione instructed as she washed her hands.

"You both go without me," Ron said.

"What why," Harry asked.

"I have something to do," Ron replied vaguely. "I'll meet up with you later." Hermione stared at him as if trying to figure out his real motives.

Harry looked like he was about to argue.

"Fine," Hermione relented. "Make sure you both keep your notebooks with you at all time."

* * *

"Need help, mum," Ron asked who was still cleaning up the dishes from breakfast. He grabbed the nearest washcloth.

She beamed, "Thank you. Just do those dishes over there." Ron obeyed and they both cleaned without saying a word to each other.

Finally, broke the silence. "What do you want Ron?"

He answered her question with another question. "What make you think I want something?"

"Oh come on, Ron," she laughed. "I gave birth to you. You're being nice for no reason. That means you want something" Ron flushed. "What is it?"

Ron took a minute to gather his courage. He looked at his mother dead in the eye. "Mum, give me the Prewett title."

* * *

Hermione covered her face with a hood as she entered Knockturn Alley. She and Harry had separated as soon as they entered Diagon Alley. They chose to come as soon as the shops opened up so not many people would be around to recognize the Boy-Who-Lived. She passed a couple old witches that slouched on the dirty floor. Threatening looking wizards and witches gazed at her from some of the shops.

"You sure you didn't make a wrong turn, wench," one jeered as she walked by. Hermione felt relieved once she saw the dark, shadowy sign: Borgin and Burke's.

"Hello," she called out nervously as she entered. Hermione expected the store to be dark, but no lights were turned on. She was sure that the store should've been open by now. "Mr. Burke?" Her boots squished as she stepped on a puddle of water. _There must be a leak somewhere._

No one responded to her calls. Looking around, the witch saw that the store appeared to be empty. Several dark artifacts were still in their cases. She recognized a copy of the necklace Harry described that Malfoy wanted to buy. A mysterious cabinet sat at the corner of the store but Hermione was careful not to touch it. Anything could set off a curse. She felt the wall for a switch and turned on the lights.

She screamed. What she stepped on wasn't water.

* * *

Harry never enjoyed visiting Gringotts. The goblins were rude and every one of them were like mini copies of Snape. _Snarky little pricks._ Unfortunately, if Harry wanted answers, he would have to interact with them. On the bright side, Harry was sure they would enjoy this meeting just as much as he would.

"Hello," he greeted one goblin teller. The goblin grunted in response. This was starting to seem like it was going to be a _fun_ conversation. "I was wondering if I could see the manager of my vault."

"Key," growled the goblin.

Harry chuckled nervously. "You see that's the thing. I don't have my key." The goblin glowered at him. "Is there another way to verify my identity?"

"Slice your finger with a knife and drop some blood on this parchment," the goblin ordered handing him a nasty blade.

"Thank you Mr…"

"Grimjaw."

Harry cut his finger and winced at the sharp pain. The parchment glowed white before the words, Potter-Black, appeared.

"Everything appears to be in order," Grimjaw approved. He hopped off his teller box. "This way Mr. Potter."

Harry followed the goblin to one of the back rooms. Grimjaw motioned him to stop and knocked on a normal looking office door. He yelled something in gobbledygook and after a moment turned back to the overwhelmed boy. "You may enter."

The boy obeyed and entered. Everything strangely looked like a normal muggle bank office down to the uncomfortable chairs. The only difference Harry could really see was that a goblin was sitting behind the desk.

"Please have a seat," this goblin said.

Harry complied. He held out his hand for the goblin to shake. "Thank you for meeting me. My name is Harry Potter. And yours?"

The goblin lifted one eyebrow at the held out hand and declined to shake. "Runeclaw. Why did you come Mr. Potter?"

"I wanted to review the state of my inheritance," he answered. "Actually, I just want to know what I inherited first and foremost."

Runeclaw took out a stack of parchment and scanned it. "You are currently the heir for both the Potter and Black families." He stopped once he saw the look on the boy's face. "Is this surprising to you?"

"Yes," Harry breathed. He hadn't realized that he would be Sirius's heir. _Dumbledore did say he left me everything back at the Dursley's. At least he was truthful about that._ Harry clenched his fists.

* * *

Hermione breathed heavily trying to calm her speeding heart. A large puddle of blood was right in front of her and no doubt on the bottom of her boot. A few tracks of blood led to the back of the counter which gave the impression someone or something was dragged there. Hermione took a cautious step forward and made her way to the counter. She had a feeling that she didn't wanted to see what lay behind it. The outline of a shoe appeared. Her worst fears were confirmed. _Oh, Merlin._ There lay the broken, mutilated form of .

He didn't look like he had been dead for long. There wasn't the rancid smell of decomposing flesh yet. She knelt down and touched her finger to one side of his face. _Still warm._ She gasped. _Which means._ Hermione quickly dove to the side as a beam of green light shot towards where she had been kneeling. The glass case shattered and all sorts of dark objects fell to the ground. _The murderer is still here._

Once again the witch cursed the ministry for not allowing under age magic. A few more beams of light shot towards her and Hermione barely dodged them. She took the chance to lay one of the tables on its side and hide behind it. Several spells hit the back of the table, one going through and grazing her ear. Hermione cried out in pain. She began to hyperventilate. _He's going to kill me!_ She silently screamed in horror as she heard her attacker stop shooting spells and walk agonizingly slowly towards where she hid. _Think Hermione, think_ she willed herself. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted the fallen form of the cursed necklace she saw earlier. Wasting no time, she grabbed a nearby broken chair leg and rushed towards the necklace, dodging yet another curse. In one unbelievably fluid motion, Hermione lifted the necklace with the chair leg and flung it at her attacker who grabbed it.

For the first time, she met face to face with the murderer. Hermione didn't recognize the hooded man. The moment he grabbed the cursed necklace, he shrieked in agony as the necklace lifted him into the air. He dropped his wand, which Hermione grabbed and broke over her knee. She took a step back and sank to the ground. The man screamed in pain. A terrible, eerie sound. Hermione covered her ears. Finally after five minutes, the man gave one more strangled shriek and crashed into the floor, still as the man he murdered.

Knowing how bad it would be to be caught with two bodies, Hermione turned and ran.

* * *

"Well continuing on," Runeclaw dismissed. "Your trust vault is valued around 100,000 galleons." The number blew Harry's mind away. "The main Potter vaults should be over 5 million galleons. The Black vaults should be around that amount as well."

Harry sputtered. "What about my businesses."

"Ah yes." Runeclaw flipped through more parchment. "Potters CO. mainly manufacture high-grade cauldrons and other potions equipment. They also import potions ingredients on the side. They are also credited to have patented most of the equipment Healers use in the hospitals so you are considerably wealthy."

Harry nodded dumbly. "Who was in charge of looking over my finances?"

"That would be your guardian, Mr. Dumbledore."

"May I see a report on what he might have withdrawn from my vaults over the years?"

Runeclaw handed him a parchment and Harry skimmed it over.

"What," Harry cried. "Nothing was withdrawn?"

"Yes. No money was withdrawn." Runeclaw looked amused. "You thought the man was stealing from you. is rich. He has no need of your money."

"But," Harry stammered. It didn't make sense. If Dumbledore wasn't keeping him ignorant of his fortune to steal his money, then why all the secrecy? _Wait, something was withdrawn._ "What is parcel 3324," he asked the goblin.

"Parcel 3324 is a book, ," Runeclaw replied.

"I thought you said nothing was withdrawn," Harry accused.

Runeclaw narrowed his eyes. "I said no money was withdrawn," he gritted out.

"What is the book called?"

"I don't know," Runeclaw replied. "When the Potters deposited the book fifty years ago, they didn't allow us goblins to know the title."

Harry decided to let it go for now. "May I look at my inheritance now?"

"Certainly," Runeclaw responded. "But, your visit today did surprise us . We expected you to come a few months ago."

"Why?"

"It was agreed that on your fifteenth birthday, you would be told of your parents' wills." Runeclaw pulled out an envelope. "Here it is. Would you like a lawyer here?"

"No," Harry gulped. "Just read it out."

Runeclaw began. "The last will and testament of Lily and James Potter as witnessed by Albus Dumbledore, Amelia Bones, and Emmeline Vance."

Harry's eyes widened. _Amelia Bones and Emmeline Vance? I need to tell Hermione._

* * *

 _A/N: Tada!_ Act One is finished. Who killed ? Why did Dumbledore only steal a book from Harry? What is Ron planning? Well only I know the answer to that! XD .Review please if you have any predictions.


	8. Act Two Scene One

Disclaimer: I don't own it. Not that rich.

* * *

"Sometimes the best course of action is to do nothing at all."

-Richard Finslough (potioneer)

* * *

"Amelia Bones and Emmeline Vance," Harry stammered. "Why are they involved?"

Runeclaw answered, "According to the wills, Amelia bones was Mr. James Potter's boss and mentor. Emmeline Vance was a family friend of Potter. Naturally, they trusted the witches enough to witness their wills. Would you like to hear the rest?"

 _Both women died just a few months ago. Murdered on the same day by Death Eaters and now apparently they witnessed my parents' wills._ Harry's thoughts were racing in his head. _I was supposed to learn the contents of the wills a few months ago. Out of all three witnesses, Dumbledore is the only one alive and neglected to inform me of the wills._ He shivered. Harry didn't like the implications those thoughts brought. If he was right, then Dumbledore was willing to kill to make sure Harry would stay in the dark. "Yes continue."

"Along with the Potter family business," Runeclaw explained. "You inherited the Potter estate. An unplottable mansion which will be revealed to you once you accept the inheritance later today."

His head snapped up. _Today._

" There is also the matter of accepting your lordships," Runeclaw continued. "Which by law will give you two seats in the Wizengamot. Now do you accept?"

"How do you accept?"

Runeclaw pulled a small box from one of the cabinets in his office. He opened it revealing two simple rings. One was platinum with small rubies engraved into it. The other gold with a single black quartz crystal. Both were ugly in Harry's opinion, but most old jewelry were. In their hideousness, an aura of power extruded from the rings. Old power. Harry was tempted to just put them on, but he had to be cautious.

"Will everyone know if I accept the lordships," he asked the goblin.

Runeclaw nodded. "Yes, the ministry will update itself and the Wizengamot registry will show your name."

"If I don't accept the rings?"

"The estate and the company are still yours. You just won't be able to join the Wizengamot ranks without them."

Harry really wanted to accept. With that power, he could show Dumbledore he was not a pawn he could play with. He held out his hands as if to grab them, then retracted his fingers. No not yet. They couldn't afford giving the murderous old man a chance fight back.

"I refuse," Harry said with difficulty. "But, I would like to know the location of my home, please."

* * *

"Absolutely not," refused. She set down the washcloth and faced her son angrily. "What gave you this idea."

"Mum, please," Ron pleaded. He wracked his brain for anything that would convince his mother. "Dumbledore needs support, right? If you give me the Prewett title, it would be one more vote for the light. I want to make a difference."

"Dumbledore has enough support," Mrs. Weasley argued. "My answer is no." Ron could see her hands tremble.

"What is it," he asked softly. "What are you worried about? Another Percy?" _No, she wouldn't be this scared about_ _me leaving the family._ "Or is it about Uncle Fabien and Uncle Gideon?"

 _Crash._ A pot a fell to the ground. "I don't want my family to be put in danger," snapped.

"That's hypocritical of you," Ron sneered. "Considering that we're in the Order."

 _Slap._ Ron's head flew to the side and he turned back around to the face of his mother. Tears had formed in the corner of her eyes. Instantly, a feeling of guilt welled up inside him.

"How dare you talk to me like that," she yelled. "You have no idea what it was like living in those times. That name is the reason why you never met your relatives from my side of the family." Ron opened his mouth to say something but, she didn't let him. "Fabian and Gideon were like you. They thought they were invincible. They used the family name to speak up against You-Know-Who. Do you know how long they lasted." Ron shook his head. "A week."

"You-Know-Who sent out a proclamation to all his Death Eaters," she explained bitterly. "All people with the Prewett name had to be wiped out. Now I've worked hard." slammed her hand on the counter. "I've worked hard to keep this family safe and now you want to put us in danger again."

"We're already in danger," Ron told his mother bluntly. "We were in danger the moment I made Harry Potter my best mate. You think hiding in the shadows will fix that, it won't. If we ever want to live safely in our homes again, we need to take action. Give me that opportunity mum. I'm not a child anymore."

looked at her child as if seeing him for the first time. Seeing the determination in his eyes. Gideon and Fabian had the same look. Maybe this time it would be different. "Fine. If you're that sure, we'll go to Gringotts as soon as your father comes home." Then she gave her son one last glare but, Ron knew that she would understand eventually.

"Thanks mum," Ron said relieved. The first phase of his plan was complete. He grinned. _Percy is going to have a fit when he finds out._

* * *

Harry left Gringotts going over what he had just learned. The address to his mansion was safely in his pocket and he would need to destroy it as soon as he had the chance to take a look. Runeclaw had explained that Dumbledore had tried multiple times to be given the right to enter the estate but was refused each time. Apparently there were ancient laws that protected pureblood property to be touched by anyone not of the bloodline. Only Harry could allow anyone in or out which would prove useful should he need a place to getaway. Harry also inquired about the Black inheritance, but Runeclaw explained that he could only accept it when he accepted the Black lordship. Every pureblood family had its own laws it seemed.

The notebook in Harry's right pocket glowed faintly. He pulled it out. _I was attacked. Burke is dead. Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron. -Hermione._ Harry closed the notebook and walked briskly towards the pub.

Every part of Hermione shook as she took a sip from a steaming cup of butterbeer. The witch was also highly aware of the dried blood that caked the bottom of her boots. Old Tom behind the counter asked her what got her so shaken when she arrived but she just ignored the man and ordered her drink. The intense feeling of fear was crippling her thoughts. _I almost died._ She briefly wondered if this was what her parents' felt shortly before they were murdered. _I almost died and I murdered someone._ The image of the body of her mysterious attacker flashed in her mind. She murdered someone but strangely didn't feel any different. Where was the crippling guilt? The huge feeling of shame? All Hermione felt was relief that it wasn't her lying on the floor bleeding out her life.

Hermione shook her head. She really shouldn't be thinking about such things. It wasn't that she was worried about being caught. The murders would most likely be blamed on Death Eaters anyway. The man deserved to die. He murdered Burke and he was going to kill her too.

"Hermione," Harry yelled. "I came as fast as I could." He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," Hermione reassured.

"What happened. Who-"

Hermione held up one finger. "Not here," she whispered. She turned to the old barkeeper who was listening into their conversation. "Tom, can we get a room please. One with silencing wards."

"Sure," replied a befuddled Tom. He gave the two That Look as he handed them a key. "Don't you two go doing anything you will regret."

Harry wanted to correct the man but, was stopped by a tense Hermione who dragged him upstairs to the room they had selected. Once inside, the witch made sure the door was locked and whirled around to face her bewildered friend.

"Someone killed Burke and tried to kill me," she whispered harshly. "I think someone knew that I was going there today."

Harry rubbed a hand through his hair. "Who?"

"I don't know!" She paced along the length of the room. "I went to go meet up with Burke to ask about You-Know-Who. Everything was dark. I thought I stepped on water." She was babbling. Harry was having trouble following the story.

"Wait slow down," he ordered.

Hermione took a deep breath and tried again. "I discovered Burke's body when I entered his store to interview him. The killer was still inside and tried to sneak up on me, but I used one of the dark objects available to kill him and escape."

The Gryffindor boy wringed his hands. "You killed someone? Merlin, we're in deep trouble."

Hermione hissed, "No one must know about this." Harry nodded dumbly before remembering the news he wanted to tell her.

"I found out something in Gringotts today."

"Yeah what?" Hermione took a seat at the bed.

"You remember the DMLE head who was murdered, Madam Bones?"

Hermione didn't know where Harry was going with this. "Yeah?"

"And the Order member, Emmeline Vance?"

"Yes."

Harry confessed, "I think Dumbledore had them killed."

Hermione was dumbfounded. "Harry," she started slowly. "That is a big accusation to make."

Harry shook his head. "It's not actually. I just learned that the contents of my parents' wills were supposed to be revealed to me on my fifteenth birthday but no one deigned to tell me. The will and the order to reveal the will to me on that day were witnessed by three people."

Hermione was confused. "What does that have to do with the two dead witches?"

"The witnesses of that will were: Amelia Bones, Emmeline Vance, and Albus Dumbledore," Harry revealed. "And two of the witnesses were murdered the month before my birthday and I was never informed."

"Merlin," Hermione breathed. It made sense. Keep Harry in the dark and eliminate any and all threats. The timing was perfect too. No one would suspect that it was anyone but a Death Eater who could have killed them. Or maybe it was a Death Eater and Dumbledore just let slip where the two witches' locations were. The only part of this mess that Hermione couldn't understand was why was the old man was willing to go this far to maintain control on the boy's life.

"Money," she wondered aloud.

"No, he didn't steal any of my money," Harry corrected. " The old man is already wealthy. According to my account manger, all he took was a book."

Hermione wrinkled her brows. "A book? What book was it?"

Harry sighed. "That's the thing. I don't know. I asked Runeclaw and even he didn't know."

"Well we can't worry about that right now," Hermione dismissed. "What else did you find out?"

Harry listed, "I have a house, and import/manufacturing business, and I'm super rich. Oh and the house is unplottable so if we need a place to get away we can always use it. Speak of which…" He pulled out a piece of paper with the address scribbled on it. "Here's the location of the mansion. Memorize it and destroy it."

Hermione quickly read the slip of paper. "43 Oakbrook Cres." Scanning it over a couple times to make sure she had it committed to memory she tossed it into the fireplace. "Unplottable," she murmured. An idea popped into her mind.

"I think I figured out how to get Malfoy join our side," the witch declared.

Harry frowned. "We were trying to get him to join us? I thought we were only temporarily using him. Keeping him alive is enough."

"Making Malfoy join us will strike a blow against You-Know-Who."

Harry was skeptical. "So, Voldemort has plenty other Death Eaters. One less wouldn't make much of a difference."

"Harry oh Harry," Hermione tutted. "Who did you think was funding You-Know-Who's campaign? Take away Malfoy and all that money and political support is gone."

 _That's right the Malfoys have old money_ Harry remembered. But, the person in charge of family finances was Malfoy's father, not the boy himself. "I see what you're trying to say," Harry pointed out. "But, there is a flaw to your plan. Malfoy is not the Lord of his family."

"Why does no one read Hogwarts a History," Hermione shouted, frustrated. "If a Head of a Family is sent to Azkaban, all responsibilities are passed down onto the heir. That means as long as Malfoy Senior is in prison, Malfoy is Lord Malfoy."

"Why is that information in Hogwarts a History," Harry asked. _What type of book is it?_

Hermione ignored him. " I was thinking of offering to protect his mother for him and in return he has to join our ranks and cut off support for the Death Eaters. That's where your mansion comes to play. Being unplottable it's the perfect safe house."

It was a good idea, but Harry decided to play the Devil's advocate. "Say we do that and somehow Lucius Malfoy escapes from prison. He's Lord Malfoy and supports the Death Eaters once again. Now all we accomplished is pissing off Voldemort and painting a target over Malfoy's head."

Hermione thought for a moment. "The Blacks," she said finally. "They were able to disown family members right? What if we got Malfoy to disown his father while he's in prison and cut off the Death Eater funds?"

"That could work," Harry agreed. "But would he do it?"

Hermione snorted. "Of course he would. His father got him into this mess and I have a feeling that the only thing on his mind is staying alive. He's desperate. Which is good for us. Desperate people are always the easiest to convince." Harry decided to ignore how terrible that sounded. She pulled out her charmed notebook and quickly scribbled a note to Malfoy.

Meet us at the Leaky Cauldron in two hours. We have a proposition for you. Ask for room 207 -Hermione.

A few minutes later, her notebook glowed. Only a single word appeared: Fine.

The witch grinned widely. "And now we wait."

* * *

"I'm home-," sang out. He marched over to his wife and gave her a peck on the cheek. He turned to his youngest son and ruffled his hair. "Great to see you back Ron."

Ron smiled. "Good to see you too, Dad."

"Arthur, we have something to tell you," said to her husband who was already in the kitchen looking for a snack. She pushed her son forward with a look saying: if you want it so bad you ask for it.

"Mhmm," he mumbled between bites of pie.

"We were wondering if you could take us to Gringotts," Ron explained.

"Ok," agreed. "For what?"

 _This is the moment._ Ron gulped. "I want to take up the Prewett title."

licked the fruit off his fingers. "You're not trying to follow your brother's footsteps are you?" The statement was sounded friendly enough, but Ron could sense the threat lying underneath.

"Course not," Ron quickly said. "I actually want to make a difference. Not lick anyone's boots."

brightened up. "In that case go ahead." He grabbed his jacket. "Get ready you two."

Ron let loose a deep breath in relief. His mother on the other hand looked disappointed at how easy it was for Ron to get his way.

"Oh but Ron," called out. "Bill sits as my proxy in the Wizengamot meetings You're to listen to your brother at all times understood? He'll be teaching you the proper conduct and everything else."

"Got it," Ron answered. _Great I got a babysitter._

* * *

 _This is utter bollocks_ grumbled an irate Malfoy in his mind. Does that girl have any idea how hard it is for him to sneak away from his house under the Dark Lord's nose. He had to lie to his crazy aunt's face, you know! That's pretty much a death sentence. Luckily, Bellatrix believed him when he said that he wanted to keep working on the mission during the break.

"Such loyalty," Bellatrix cooed as she hugged an uncomfortable Malfoy. "It's good to see you have more Black blood in you than your father's. The Dark Lord will be pleased." Then she gripped him on the shoulders hard and hissed, "Failure is not an option." After that traumatizing moment, the crazy witch finally let the boy go.

That's how the Slytherin ended up in Diagon Alley trudging towards the next annoyance. He slammed the doors of the Leaky Cauldron open and addressed the barkeeper.

"Room 207," he stated.

The barkeeper, Tom looked equally as pleased to see him. The usually friendly old man scowled and gestured him the hallway on the right.

"Death Eater scum," Tom muttered under his breath as Malfoy passed by.

 _Hey, it's not like I like my job,_ Malfoy reasoned mentally. _I was just handed the promotion._ The boy chuckled at his horrid joke. Finally, he knocked on the door of room 207. The door opened to reveal a tense-looking Harry who pulled Malfoy in and shut the door immediately behind them.

"So how's our favourite Death Eater," Hermione welcomed. She was sitting quite relaxed on the bed for someone who demanded his presence on the fly. Malfoy noted the fake friendly smile on her face and determined that he wouldn't like whatever they had to say to him.

"Cut the pleasantries Granger," he growled. "I'm on a time limit here." It was true, soon the Dark Lord and his men would wonder why it was taking so long to check the progress of the cabinet.

"Relax," Harry cut in. He was leaning on the wall and unlike Hermione looked properly stressed. He made his way over to where Hermione sat and took a seat behind her. "First thing you should know is that the man you are probably working on you special 'mission' with, Burke. He's dead."

Malfoy covered his face with his hands. It's official. He was royally screwed. "How did he die," he roared. Now how was he going to fix the enchanted cabinet now?

Hermione was genuinely surprised. "You mean it wasn't you guys?"

"No you fool," Malfoy gritted out. "We needed him. _I needed him._ " This was all too much. Without Burke, the cabinet couldn't be finished. If the cabinet wasn't finished…

"Well whoever it was, the murderer is dead now," Harry told the stressed Slytherin.

Malfoy cocked an eyebrow. "How?"

Harry didn't answer just shot a glance at Hermione which the boy caught.

His eyes felt like they were going to pop out of his head. "Her?" Hermione scowled at his surprise. "Well that's just great. Little miss perfect mudblood actually murdered someone. It's hilarious."

Hermione snarled, "What did I tell you about calling me _that?"_

Malfoy flopped onto the bed and sighed. "Who cares? I'm dead anyway. If not by you, then by the Dark Lord or Dumbledore. Forget blood supremacy. I've been kissing the boots of a half-blood who is powerful enough to wipe out families. Right now my only concern was surviving and even then I grasped the short stick." Angry tears stung his eyes but he willed them away. It wouldn't do to break down in front of his enemies. He covered his eyes with his arms. "Whatever you think you can offer me, it's probably not going to be enough."

"You should learn to fix your language, Malfoy," Hermione warned gently wanting to placate the boy. Malfoy snorted. "We're holding your ticket to freedom."

Malfoy sat up. "I'm listening." Being a Slytherin for so many years, he learned never to ignore any opportunity.

Harry cut in," I own a mansion. It's unplottable. The perfect place for a safe house. If you'd like we could hide your mother and you there. You'd never have to be a Death Eater again."

"You're all insane," Malfoy declared. "I'm stuck in a room full of crazy people," he told himself. This isn't a game. Once they catch a whiff of the fact I defected they'll kill me and my family. No one will know where our bodies will be. They wipe traitors off the map."

"You said it yourself," Hermione reasoned. "No matter what, the Dark Lord will kill you for failing the mission." Malfoy made to say something. "Oh, don't give that look. You're trying to kill Dumbledore, not some random Muggle. You _will_ fail. We can protect you from the Dark Lord. Hide you and your mother. No one will know where you are."

"And the public love me," Harry added. "Way more than Dumbledore. Truthfully out of the two, I have more influence. I am also a twice Lord."

Malfoy's eyes widened with realization. "So it was you?" Harry nodded which prompted Malfy to laugh. "You have no idea how angry Bellatrix was when the Black title didn't go to me."

Harry said nothing so Malfoy continued, " I'll give you a hint. Angry enough to kill. That incident where the Muggle bridge collapsed killing dozens of people, it was all her."

Hermione and Harry figured out the hidden meaning of his words. Bellatrix's crazed anger was only the beginning of what they would face should the dark side find out that Malfoy was defecting.

"We can handle it," Harry refused firmly. There was no way he'd show fear to the woman who murdered Sirius.

"Well expect a lot of Muggles to die anyway," Malfoy chipped in. "Especially now that you expected your lordships, everyone's going to know tomorrow. You did accept them, right?"

"No," answered Harry and he had a good reason to seeing the expressions on the other two's faces. "It's just as you said, I accept and everyone will know. That includes Dumbledore."

"That's right how could I forget," Hermione remembered.

"Forget what," inquired Malfoy.

"We have reason to believe that Dumbledore may have been willing to kill in order to keep my rightful inheritance from me," Harry explained.

"For what," Malfoy asked. "Money or something?"

Harry shrugged. "Apparently all he wanted from my accounts was a book."

 _A book. All that work for a book._ Malfoy just shook his head at the absurdity of the leaders in their world. _They're all off their rockers._ Which was exactly why leaving the Death Eaters seemed like a good idea. He never imagined the day when going to Potter would seem like a good idea. "You guarantee that you will protect my mother and me, " the slytherin spoke up. He looked at both Gryffindors in the eye. "You really mean it?"

"Of course we do," Hermione replied. "We didn't call you over because we like your company."

"Swear it," Malfoy demanded.

Hermione challenged back, "You swear as well." They sized each other up, each not wanting to back down to the other. "We each swear that we will not harm and protect each other."

Malfoy looked rebellious which made Harry speak up," Look Malfoy, this is the only way we can treat each other as equals." Slowly the Slytherin relaxed.

"I swear on my magic to never harm and assist Harry Potter and those involved in our cause," Malfoy vowed reluctantly. The electric feeling of magic echoed in the room.

"We swear on our magic to never harm and assist Draco Malfoy and those involved in our cause," Harry and Hermione vowed solemnly. Their magical signatures echoed around the room.

 _It's done._ Malfoy flopped back onto the bed. _What have I done?_

A cry from Hermione distracted him from his self pity. "What the hell?" She was looking over her charmed notebook. Harry and Malfoy were quite amused, not used to hearing the normally reserved girl curse aloud. Harry stopped smiling once he made his way over to his friend and overread what got her so riled up.

 _I went to Gringotts today and became Lord Prewett. Tell me where you guys are so I can explain my plan. -Ron_

"Now what gave him the idea that it was a good idea to do that," Harry wondered.

"Good idea to do what," asked Malfoy.

"Ron," Hermione cried. "That idiot went ahead and announced himself as Lord Prewett!"

Malfoy rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I knew joining you guys would be a mistake," he groaned to himself.

* * *

 _Room 207. Come Now!_ Ron didn't need to guess who angrily wrote him that note. He knew that the his bushy-haired friend wouldn't be able to handle the news well. A new ring adorned the boy's left index finger. It was a small orange jewel encased in bronze and gave an overall warm feeling despite its ugly appearance.

"Mum," he called out as they left the bank. "I'm going to head to the Leaky Cauldron to get a bite to eat. Do you want anything?"

"No dear, but I thought we were visiting Fred and George?"

"I will," Ron affirmed. "Just head over there. I won't take long." Without waiting for a response, the boy dashed over to the Leaky Cauldron. "Hey Tom, know where those two are at?"

Tom fully understood which people the red-headed wizard was talking about and yelled out, "Room 207, son." Ron thanked him and made his way over to the room the barkeep indicated. Opening the door he sang out," Hey mates" only to be welcomed by Hermione screaming at him.

"What's the matter with you?"

Ron wrinkled his brows. "What do you mean?"

"You just revealed our activities to the world," Hermione screeched. "Why didn't you tell me about what you were doing?"

"Because that's what you've been doing this entire time, telling me things," Ron replied sarcastically. "I had a plan."

"Dumbledore is going to know now!"

"Dumbledore," Ron cut in. "Thinks I'm still loyal to the Order. That's what I told Mum too. That I wanted to become Lord Prewett to win more votes for the Order in Wizengamot so as far as the Order knows that's the truth."

"It's still risky," Hermione admonished.

"So what," Ron challenged. "I've got us an in on the Wizengamot. Eventually, we're going to need support from other people against Dumbledore and You-Know-Who."

"You're suggesting to make a third side," Hermione realized. "I haven't thought that far."

"That's exactly why I did what did," Ron explained. "You're not the only one capable of making plans you know. It would be nice if you stopped micro-managing everything." Hermione flushed in embarrassment. "Guess I have the ferret to thank for helping me see that." He nodded in Malfoy's direction.

"I wasn't trying to help you idiot," Malfoy snapped. "I was trying to make you guys split up."

"That didn't exactly work now did it," Ron quipped. Malfoy scowled.

"When's the next Wizengamot meeting," Hermione asked.

Ron thought for a moment. "The last meeting of the year is tomorrow so I got the lordship in time. That reminds me…" He turned to a quiet Harry. "When we go tomorrow, it's important to find the right place to sit." Seeing Harry's questioning gaze, the red-head explained, "What I learned from Dad today is that the Council is separated into three different factions. The first in Dumbledore's which sit on the far left of the audience hall. The Death Eater's sit on the far right and in the middle are the neutral party which haven't pledged allegiance to either sides. When we go tomorrow, I want you to sit in the middle group, but not too close to centre that you look completely separate to Dumbledore's side. Centre-left would be the best choice."

"Harry didn't accept his lordships," Hermione admitted. "He didn't want to alert Dumbledore that he knew anything about his inheritance."

"He had Madam Bones and Vance killed to keep me in the dark," Harry added.

"That wasn't him, it was the Death Eaters," argued Malfoy.

"Which Death Eater," Harry asked.

"Snape," Malfoy responded. "It was Snape. He's been working for the Dark Lord this entire time."

"Dumbledore always did say Snape was loyal," Harry muttered no doubt in his mind that Snape committed those murders on behalf of the leader of the light.

Malfoy heard but kept silent. Why on earth would the old fool use his spy to get the Dark Lord to murder two light witches?

Harry as if reading his mind admitted, "They both were witnesses for my parents' wills which wasn't executed by the way."

"So Harry can't come to the meeting tomorrow," Ron asked, changing the subject.

"Yes," Hermione answered. "Is that a problem?"

Ron shook his head. "Somehow that makes things easier. It'll be easier to convince the Order that I choose a seat at random when I enter the Wizengamot. Never thought it would be useful to be considered an idiot." He smiled ruefully. "Also I'll be able to scope out the area for Harry."

"Good idea," Hermione agreed. "Then Harry and I will be doing some recruiting of our own."

"Who do you have in mind," Harry asked.

"Fred and George. They're closest."

 _Oh great! Two pranksters, a bookworm, a couple blood traitors we'll defeat the Dark Lord for sure_ Malfoy thought. "When's the soonest that we can enact the save-me-from-the-crazy-sadistic-half-blood-monster?"

"Gringotts is open tomorrow right," Hermione asked Harry.

"Yes"

She turned to Malfoy. "Tomorrow then. Go home and tell your mother to come to the Leaky Cauldron at ten. Then head to Gringotts to do the proper paperwork. Afterwords you can attend the "

"What paperwork?"

Harry and Hermione shared a look. "We need you to disown your father," Hermione said slowly.

"What," Malfoy exclaimed. His hands were itching to take out his wand.

"If you kick out the Dark Lord from you mansion and take away Death Eater funding," Harry explained. "Then there is a chance that when your father breaks free from Azkaban, that he'll just undo what you did once he becomes Lord Malfoy again." Malfoy looked mutinous. "It was that or kill him. You don't want that do you?"

"It was your dad who put you in this situation," Hermione added. "There's no helping him. The least you can do is take care of your mother." She saw his shoulders sink.

"Fine, I'll do it," Malfoy surrendered. He knew that there was no helping his dad, but this was betraying him. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like to go home."

"Go ahead," Hermione urged gently. She watched as the boy quietly and left. _So pitiful_ she thought guilty at what she was making him do.

"We should leave too," Ron suggested. "I told mum that I'd only be out for a while. She's probably wondering where we are."

"We should. Busy day tomorrow," Hermione agreed.

* * *

"Mum," Malfoy said suddenly as he sat next to his mother in the sitting room reading a book. Without lifting her eyes from the magazine, Mrs. Malfoy merely raised her eyebrows in acknowledgement. Malfoy looked around to make sure they were really alone and slid closer to his mother. She put the magazine down. This seemed to be serious.

"What is it Draco," she asked softly.

"I found a way for us to escape," Malfoy whispered. She widened her eyes. "But, I need your cooperation."

"What do you have planned," whispered back. For the past few months, she tried desperately to find a way to help her son escape her fate, but he found one by himself?

"It's risky," Malfoy admitted. "I'm afraid the only one I can save is you." He lowered his eyes. "I only hope you can forgive me for what I'm about to do."

sensed the urgency in his voice, but decided to leave it alone for now. She reached out and caressed his head warmly. "What do you have in mind?"

"Here's what you need to do."

And so found herself walking confidently towards the Leaky Cauldron a shawl wrapped around her head to protect her ears from the winter cold. No one bothered to greet her hello as she walked past, which was fine for her. Ever since had been arrested, no one treated the Malfoys with the same admiration as before. Never had she been more thankful for their cold shoulders.

Escaping the Manor had proven to be easier than she expected. The half-hearted excuse she used was that she wished to go shopping. "It's been a while," told Nott as she passed him by. In response the man gave a boorish quip about how all women were the same. Thank Merlin no one saw her hands tremble as she left. They were still trembling as she opened the door to the Leaky Cauldron but it could be blamed on the cold. _I must stay calm_ urged herself. _If I show any weakness it could mean the end of me. It could mean the end of Draco._

She entered the bar. The old barkeep, Tom, looked up from his glasses to welcome the new guest but the smile slid off once he saw who it was. He pretended not to see the woman and returned to his glasses. _No matter_ thought to herself. _As if I wanted to eat any of his drivel._ She anxiously glanced at her watch. _9:30._ She came early.

"You're not buying anything," and angry voice called out to her. It was the old barkeeper, Tom. "You can't sit here if you don't buy anything. This place is for paying customers you see."

"One butterbeer then," replied with as much grace as she could muster. She understood the true meaning in his words though. _You're kind isn't welcome here._ reminded herself not to drink anything the man gives her. He probably would spit into it. Her bitter thoughts were interrupted by a figure who sat at the opposite seat across in the booth.

"Sorry for calling you out here so early," the figure recognized to be the mudblood Malfoy complained about so much. "Wonderful morning isn't it?" There she sat, the Granger girl, smiling as if they were close friends. What does she have to do with saving Draco. Could it be that Draco had decided to join the Order as she suspected?

"Yes it's quite lovely," responded the bewildered . She barely registered Tom, plunking the drink on the table. "May I ask why you're here?"

"In a minute we're just waiting for someone," Hermione answered taking a sip out her own drink. "Ah here he is." Tom arrived once more and gave the girl a slip of paper. It didn't look like a receipt as far as could see. "Please place your hand on the paper," the girl instructed.

"Why," demanded alarmed. This was a portkey! The girl wouldn't stop smiling so much, it was unnerving her. This was a bad idea. gathered her things and got up to leave. Hermione's hand shot out and grasped 's by the wrist. She was no longer smiling. In one quick motion, the Gryffindor slammed the woman's hand on to the paper and they were transported.

fell on the ground with an undignified thud. She scrambled to her feet, frightened. _Where am I?_ She had to get out of here and warn Draco that this was a trap.

" , are you alright," a worried Hermione asked.

"Why did you bring me here," spit out at the hateful girl. Wherever here was. In front of her stood a tall, proud manor rivaling her own. A beautiful garden spread out before her with a fountain in the middle. The design was quite nice in her opinion. The coat of arms adorned on the doors was what caught the lady's attention. It was familiar. But where had she seen it before?

"I told you everything would be explained soon," Hermione reminded her.

"Who wants me here," demanded. "The Order?"

Hermione smiled, amused. "I can assure you it was not the Order, ma'am." Her eyes flickered towards the door. "He'll explain everything now."

A figure walked towards the group. Mrs. Malfoy gaped at who it was. Harry Potter walked towards the woman and shaked her hand.

Harry greeted, "Welcome to the Potter Manor."

* * *

Malfoy tapped his fingers nervously. A couple hidden Death Eaters in the crowd had been shooting him confused looks. _If only they knew…_ Just an hour ago, he had been sitting across an irate goblin signing the papers that would cut off his father from the family and the papers that would ensure that Malfoy would remain lord. Of course, he had also cut off Death Eater funding which was the original goal all along. Then there was the matter of kicking the Dark wizards from his home. But he would worry about that later.

Now, what the boy had to worry about was how Weasley would integrate himself in the Wizengamot. Which lead to what got the Death Eater so confused. Malfoy made the active choice to sit in the centre of the Wizengamot rather than next to Nott. A couple of the neutral members have also been glancing at him every now and then. It gave the impression that the Slytherin was changing alliances and cutting himself off from the war. Something the Death Eaters were unprepared for. He ignored the whispers of the many members seated with him today.

The Supreme Mugwump arrived. Dumbledore walked in, the infernal grandfatherly smile gracing everyone in the hall. _Probably making them feel warm inside like the bloody fools they are._ Once he made his way to the podium, everyone silenced themselves.

"Honourable members of the Wizengamot," Dumbledore started. "I'd like to welcome you all to the final meeting of the year." Applause rang out. Dumbledore held out his hand for peace. He continued, "I'd also like to welcome a new member who will join our ranks today." Whispers broke out once more and Dumbledore held his hand up. "I'm happy to say that a member of one of the old families have returned." At that point, a person walked calmly towards the Supreme Mugwump. The old man placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Ronald Bilius Weasley will be joining the Wizengamot as Representative Prewett."

Complaints came from all corners all at once. Malfoy could already see the idiot's ears turning red. It seems that the Weasleys managed to scrounge up enough money to give the boy new robes. A good move in his opinion. It wouldn't do to give leave Weasley in the rags he wore everyday.

"The Prewetts are dead," shouted someone from the Death Eater faction.

"Representative Rowle, I assure you that the Prewett blood flows in this boy's veins," Dumbledore argued. Ron didn't miss the way he said "boy".

"That's just it," Shouted a woman. This time from Dumbledore's faction. "He's only a boy."

"Representative Brown…," Dumbledore started but it was Ron who cut him off.

"If it's matters about blood, My mother is the last surviving member of the Prewett family. I also have Weasley blood flowing in my veins which is one of the eldest pureblood families. As for my age, Representative Brown, you yourself were only 16 when you took up the seat. Representative Malfoy is only 15 himself. Do not worry about whether on not I'll be able to keep up." Ron gave every member a cold, hard stare. "Are there any other complaints?"

No one answered. Ron smiled cockily. "I look forward to working with you all."

* * *

A/N: Exams and stuff. Man this chapter was hard to write. But the intro is finally over and Team Harry is starting to take action. Which is good. Please read and review XD


	9. Scene Two II

Disclaimer: Yup, it ain't mine.

* * *

"Life isn't worth living in without a little risk. That's what fun's made out of"

\- Henry Rangworth, Dragon Hunter

* * *

Ron glanced calculatingly over the audience hall. He quickly averted his eyes when they met the beckoning ones of his brother. _Sorry Bill, I can't sit with you today._ No, sitting with his eldest brother would only dampen their plans. It's a shame Bill chose to sit at the heart of Dumbledore's faction. His eyes swept over the Death Eater faction. All members were glaring at the Gryffindor boy. No, that place wouldn't do either. The middle, that's where Ron would head to. Putting on the air of a lost boy, Ron stumbled up the dias and headed straight for the centre of the Neutral territory. He ignored the harsh coughs Bill aimed his way and sat at the first available seat. To his displeasure he landed a seat next to the Ferret.

"My my Weasel, look at you," Malfoy sneered. "You only look half as bad as you usually do. First time using soap perhaps?" Ron did look different from usual. His hair was neatly combed and he gave an overall clean appearance.

Ron decided to ignore the comment. "What are you doing here," he asked.

"Well you couldn't very well expect me to sit with those lunatics did you?" The Slytherin sniffed towards the Death Eaters who were aiming their glare at him too. "Especially not after what I did."

"They know already?" Their information gathering was more frightening that Ron expected.

"No," answered Malfoy. "Just breathing the same air as you a blood-traitor is betrayal enough." As if on cue, one of the nasty looking goons chose that moment to send the blonde a death glare.

"Well you're not welcome either," interjected the person who had been sitting in front of them. The two faced the boy who interrupted their conversation. It was Neville. "Who would want Death Eater scum?"

"Correction Longbottom," Malfoy responded cheerfully. "Ex-Death Eater. I was not one by choice I'm afraid. If I still was, I wouldn't be sitting next to you and Weasley now would I? Do try to get something right." Neville looked like he was itching to take out his wand. "Nu-uh-uh Longbottom, there's magic canceling wards remember." Neville turned towards Ron.

"Why are you sitting next to this prick," he asked. _Also why isn't he sitting with the Order?_

Ron shrugged.

"Don't be rude Weasley," Malfoy scolded. "We're friends now." _Bloody friends my arse_ Ron thought moodily. Neville gaped at Ron in disbelief.

"You're friends..with HIM?" Ron didn't know what to say. To be honest, the Gryffindor didn't really know what he saw the Slytherin as. Life was much simpler when he had to righteous excuse to hate him.

"Camera," Malfoy called out suddenly. The three boys immediately pasted smiles on their faces as the cameras flashed at them. News reporters watching the meeting had been eyeing the new member of the Wizengamot hungrily. Ron decided to shake the Malfoy's hand for good measure. When the vulture-like cameras moved away from them, Ron dropped Malfoy's hand like a hot potato and scowled.

Malfoy sighed. "Look I'm not any more happy about this situation either, but if we are going to work together to give Harry more power, then we should at least try to get along." He spoke low so only Ron could hear. Out of the corner of the Slytherin's eye, he saw Neville straining to listen into their conversations.

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Oh, I was more worried about you. Having to sit next to a Weasley and all. Wouldn't that hurt your reputation?"

"Yes I'm afraid it will," Malfoy agreed solemnly. "But such sacrifices for success must be made. It was bad enough having to be in the same room as the other Weasley over there." He pointed towards Percy who was sitting by Scrimgeour's side. "And now you too. The struggles are real."

"You're forgetting Bill," Ron added unhelpfully.

"By Merlin," Malfoy exclaimed aghast. "You Weasleys just pop up everywhere like a bunch of red-haired cockroaches."

"Better a cockroach than a disease-ridden vermin with hair the colour of hippogriff piss," Ron quipped brightly. Neville watched this exchange in fascination. The remarks the two shared were certainly snarky enough, but somehow he didn't feel the vicious air that normally surrounded the two. Neither were reaching for their wands. Also the matter of them sitting in the neutral territory. Were they really aware of the implications that brought? Looking at both their faces, Neville saw that yes they did. They were fully aware of their actions and they were plotting something.

* * *

Harry and Hermione didn't get much chance to explore the manor properly, having just hours before bringing the here, merely finding out the location. To their surprise, immediately as they arrived, the two were greeted by an aged houself by the name of Nokki.

"Welcome home Master Potter," Nokki greeted as he bowed with difficulty using his cane as support. "We have been waiting a long, long, long time. I'm glad to see you're safe." His eyes lightened up with youth that didn't match his ancient appearance. _It's strange to see a house elf that is this articulate,_ Hermione thought.

"The late Mistress Potter had taken up to herself to properly educate the Potter elves basic language and reading skills in order to enhance serving capabilities," Nokki answered as if reading her mind. _The late Lady Potter, does he mean mum,_ Harry wondered.

"How many house elves are there," Hermione asked.

"Apart from me," Nokki responded. "There are about thirteen elves at your command, Master Potter. _Thirteen!_ Harry had a hard time wrapping the number around his head. _And I thought one was luxurious enough._ Of course, Harry knew that couldn't be true. After all the Malfoys had more house elves on their staff than any other family.

Nokki gave them a basic tour around the premises. There was not much time for the two to properly explore and nose around the rooms. Hermione practically had to be pried from the library to Harry's amusement. In all honesty, he felt slightly guilty at the betrayed look on the witch's face when he told her she couldn't read the books yet, but they had to move along with their plan.

Which was how the two Gryffindors found themselves sitting across an irate middle-aged woman in a sitting room of a manor they had barely discovered.

"Do you prefer earl grey or chai tea ," Hermione offered the woman with as much friendliness as possible. just regarded her coldly and neglected to answer. A vein popped in Hermione's head. _How rude._ Looking towards Harry, she could see the boy wasn't much better. He glared at as if he wanted to melt a hole through her skull. Hermione sighed. For the past half hour, she had been trying to start up a conversation to loosen up the awkward atmosphere, but all her attempts were brushed aside. _I feel worried about leaving these two alone together._

"We should be fine now," Harry said suddenly.

 _Huh?_

"I can handle the conversation now 'Mione. You go ahead with your side of things." He purposefully left out exactly what Hermione was going to do. Looking at Malfoy's mother, there was no way he could trust the woman yet?"

Hermione was skeptical he could handle it. "If you're sure," she responded warily. It was true that she needed to visit Fred and George to see if they would be interested in leaving the Oder and joining Harry, but they had all winter break to do so.

"Yes, go see them," Harry urged reassuringly.

"Very well," Hermione agreed. She faked a smile towards . "It's so great to meet you. I hope you will listen to what Harry is going to say." She then turned and left the room, taking a portkey out of her pocket as she did so. The only thing left to do was to trust Harry to not mess this meeting up.

* * *

Whatever Ron expected the Wizengamot meeting was going to be like, it certainly wasn't this. It was just two hours of talking about changing the legal thickness for cauldron bottoms. The only person who was finding that fascination was Percy, that prat! _Where's the talk about defeating You-Know-Who? We're in a bloody war for Merlin's sake,_ Ron grumbled in his mind. The council was currently in a recess having not coming to a decision on what the thickness should be like. The Order side was saying it should be 6 inches thick while the Death Eaters said it should be 5.5 inches. Of course, the Gryffindor voted with the Order to give the appearance he was still loyal to them but in reality Ron wanted to cry, " _What's the difference!"_ When he heard that the meeting would have to go on overtime because no decision couldn't be reached.

Malfoy was just looking cool and composed as ever, the bastard. Even Neville couldn't take that boredom for very long and nodded off ten minutes in. Malfoy on the other hand seemed to be actively listening to both sides of the arguments with amusement. When Ron asked him what was so funny all he responded was, "This petty fight isn't about cauldron bottoms. They're revealing their true intentions." _Just what the hell was that supposed to mean?_

"Look over there," the Slytherin in question ordered, poking Ron for attention. He pointed toward the Death Eater faction at a lanky, straw-haired man. "That's Pius Thickness. He's a known Death Eater. The Dark Lord had been talking about getting the Ministry under his control lately and he mentioned a puppet minister. Seeing as how vocal Thickness was in this meeting about cauldron bottoms he's probably the chosen political spokesman of the Dark Lord's faction."

Malfoy pointed his hand at another man, this time of Dumbledore's faction. "Amos Diggory you already know. I think he's Dumbledore's favourite candidate for the Minister's position."

"But Rufus," Ron argued before realizing, "They both think he isn't going to last very long,do they?"

"Yes," Malfoy agreed. "Both sides were surprised when Scrimgeour was chosen. Bet it was Fudge's final attack against both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord for ruining his career. Sometime in the future, the man will probably be forced to resign or get arrested, it doesn't really matter. The end result will be that Diggory and Thickness will need to fight for the Minister spot…"

"Which is problematic for Harry," Ron finished. Before when Fudge was still in Dumbledore's pocket, the Death Eater's had no hope to take over the Ministry, but Fudge decided to go rogue. Now the spot was up for grabs for both sides. Whoever wins, will gain the power to use the ministry against Harry once he comes out into the open as a third power. No, the Minister's spot couldn't be allowed to go to the Order or the Death Eaters. "We need to get support for Harry fast."

Malfoy grinned, "glad to see your keeping up. Now onto the candidates." His eyes scanned across the Neutral territory. "First up we got representative Macmillan." He pointed towards a pompous-looking old man. "While he may hate Death Eaters with a passion, he didn't give his allegiance to the Order for some reason which suggests that he doesn't agree with their methods. Being a family of Hefflepuffs, it tells a lot about an organization if someone like Representative Macmillon doesn't join. Thankfully, Potter is such goody goody that it might draw Macmillon towards our side."

"Ok who else?"

"Representative Bones," Malfoy continued pointing discreetly towards Susan Bones. "She recently lost her aunt and has to at a such a young age take up the family's responsibilities as the only surviving member. It's just so sad." Ron noted that Malfoy didn't look sad at all. "She's probably looking for someone to depend on. Who better than Harry the already hailed saviour of the Wizarding world. She was also in your vigilante, Dumbledore-loving group right?"

Ron nodded. "Ok who else?"

Malfoy swung an arm around Ron's shoulder to his disgust. "And then he got us. One dashing, clever man with the noble blood of the Malfoys and one light weasel. Once the public hears about how it was Potter who ended the never ending feud between the Malfoys and the Weasleys he'll no doubt gain more support. Not to mention both of our names gain some weight here in the political side of things. Mine especially."

"Dashing and clever? More like spoiled and rotten," Ron retorted. "Also how will that work when we still hate each other."

"That's true," Malfoy agreed reluctantly. "But the rest of the world doesn't need to know that. It's called acting my dear _chummy old pal."_ He squeezed his hand on Ron's shoulder hard making the boy wince.

"Aren't you forgetting someone," Ron remembered.

"No."

A slow, evil grin formed on the Gryffindor boy's face. "There's still one more person who can join Harry's side."

"Oh yeah? Who?"

Ron didn't answer just glanced downwards. Malfoy's eyes followed him before resting on the snoring form of Neville.

"Really," he asked. "Longbottom?"

"What's the matter, "Ron countered innocently. "Neville's part of a powerful pureblood family whose lineage dates farther back than both of our own. He was a member of the DA and he likes Harry. He's perfect." Malfoy scowled unable to argue any of these points.

Ron clapped Malfoy on the back with as much strength he could muster. "Congratulations, you just gained another _pal."_

* * *

 _Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._

The grandfather clock behind Harry was the only sound present in the sitting room. Already he regretted telling Hermione to leave things to him. The lady in front of him had not averted her cool gaze from his for the last ten minutes. It was quite unnerving. Harry quietly gulped. To be honest, he was extremely nervous about meeting with . This was the same lady who gave him a veiled threat in Madam Malkins that he would be murdered soon just like his godfather. The worst part was that she was also Sirius's cousin. _Though to be fair, he was murdered by his cousin…_

"Will you tell me what's going on, or are we just going to stare at one another," asked snidely, taking a sip out of her chai.

"I'm sorry but it's hard to talk when someone is trying to kill you with their eyes," Harry retorted. He noted that made no attempt to deny his comment. Harry rested his head in his hands. "Recently, I've discovered that my beneficiary was not acting according to my best interests."

took another sip.

Harry folded his hands over his lap. "I approached your son at first to find out about what Voldemort may have been upto. Then once I found out that the person I looked up to the most had betrayed me, I gave your son an offer." once again didn't react and took another sip.

"I requested that he cut off support for Voldemort and join another side in this ridiculous war. _My own."_ Harry made sure to look at Mistress Malfoy directly in the eyes. All he saw there was calm indifference. So he continued, "In return, I would give my fullest efforts in protecting you and your son from Voldemort and the Order." _But not your husband,_ Harry left that unsaid though he could see that she received the hidden message.

set the teacup onto the table gently. "There's no one more important to me than my son," she said suddenly. "All the other people around me were fools. My sister was a fool. My husband was one too. _Sirius…"_ Harry flinched. "Was one of the biggest ones of them all." Her eyes lowered. "You see, what they all have in common was that they all put their faith in the wrong people. People like my husband were not meant to be followers. No, he wasn't wired for that. Lucius had the blood of a leader, but his choice of following a deranged man was his downfall. Same with Bella and Sirius. Sirius placed his faith in the old fool and now he's dead. At least only he was affected. But my husband...his choices were threatening the safety of his own family. You can understand why I am uneasy about placing my faith in you. Especially with my son."

"I don't want Malfoy as my follower," Harry insisted. "I want him as my equal. I'm not like Voldemort, I'm not like _them._ I don't see people as my pawns."

 _Tick Tock. Tick Tock._ The silence returned. Harry could see mulling over what he said. He hoped she would accept. Truly, it would be much easier for him to rest at night knowing that she wouldn't suddenly turn on them in some misguided attempt to save herself and her son. Also was well known in pureblood circles which would be useful should they decide to recruit people in the future. That's only if she decided to help them.

"Posture," she called out to a worried Harry.

 _Huh._ Harry looked at her weirdly. _Did she crack?_

" You're posture," she said again, annoyance seeping into her voice. "It's atrocious. You slouch far too much. And your hair! By Merlin, it looks like it's alive. No, no you can't appear in society like that. There's so much work to do." Completely unlike the poised woman Harry viewed her as in her mind, he now saw ramble and mutter to herself in a fussy manner.

"I'm afraid I'm completely confused right now."

"Three days," responded. "Give me three days and I will transform you into a lord anyone can follow."

Harry lit up. "That means you'll help us?"

sniffed. "Of course. By next week I'll have you look the part of an ally of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Malfoy."

* * *

"Ah hello Miss Granger," greeted Tom the barkeep. "You fancy a glass of butterbeer this morn'?"

"Not today Tom," Hermione answered heading to the back of the bar. "I'm heading straight for the alley today."

"Well have a nice day Miss Granger."

"You too." Hermione tapped the respective bricks and entered Diagon Alley. Today she would be beginning the first phase of the recruitment plan. Her target : Fred and George.

Hermione fiddled with the wand in her pocket. If by chance the meeting went wrong and they refuse to join, she'd have to perform a memory charm on them, for safety. Unfortunately, using her own wand was not an option but luckily, Harry instructed Nokki to follow her orders. As much as she may hate it, it might be necessary. Hermione didn't know the depth of the twin's loyalty to Dumbledore.

 _Here goes nothing._ She swung the doors of the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezies open. Hermione was greeted by aisles upon aisles of coloured toys, gimmicks, and pranks. Multi-coloured candies designed to give the consumer a terrible hex littered the was hard to imagine that the delinquent twins who played pranks on first years could develop so many inventions such as these ones. Some of the candies alone could bring any master potioneer to shame.

But, Hermione was not here to admire the magic today. She headed towards the front desk where a bored witch in magenta robes sat.

"How may I help you," she asked Hermione.

She answered," I'm looking for Fred and George."

The receptionist looked at Hermione, sizing her up. "And who might you be?"

"Just tell them Hermione Granger is looking for them."

The magenta robed witch smacked her mouth open and it was only then Hermione realized that she was chewing gum. "Just a sec." The receptionist pushed a red button on the desk. " , , there's a Hermy Banger looking for you."

"Hermione Granger," Hermione hissed.

The receptionist held up a finger. "Sorry I meant a Hermione Granger… oh ok. I'll send her up then." She turned to Hermione. "They'll be waiting for you up on the third floor."

Hermione stomped off without thanking her. _So rude!_ She walked up to the office the lady gestured towards and knocked on the door.

"Come in," chimed the two voices of the twins. Hermione entered the office, which was as colourful and decorated as the rest of the store. The twins themselves sat behind a mahogany desk each in their own pair of magenta robes with their feet resting upon the desk.

"Great to see you Hermy, chummy old pal," Fred greeted.

"Didn't know you changed your name," George added.

Fred looked Hermione up and down. "And does it suit you because my you look like a banger." They both laughed as Hermione felt a vein pop.

"Knock it off you two," she grumbled taking one of the open seats in front of them.

"You're right," Fred said, wiping a tear from his eye. "So what.."

"... brings you here today," George finished.

Hermione shrugged. "Maybe I just wanted to see how you both were doing."

"Bollocks," they sang out. "You want something."

Hermione scowled. _Well to business._ "How satisfied are you with the Order?"

"That's a weird question to ask, out of the blue," Fred stated narrowing his eyes.

George added, "Yeah what brought this on?"

"Please make sure that the doors are locked and there are silencing charms placed in the room," Hermione instructed. "Because what I'm about to tell you must not leave the room." _Also it would be easier to obliviate you without any witnesses._

George flicked his wand towards the door lazily. "Well tell us. We're just dying to hear whatever juicy stuff you brought straight to us."

 _Where to start?_ Hermione realized she didn't exactly know what to say. So much has happened the past few months that it was hard to figure out where to begin. She looked at the twins' expectant faces. Maybe she should just start from the very beginning. If anything went wrong she'd just wipe their memories and try again.

"A few months ago my parents were murdered," Hermione started. Their faces sombered up. "A week ago, our school librarian was poisoned. Just yesterday, someone tried to kill me too and I think the culprit is Albus Dumbledore." Her fists clenched. "And I think they were all to shut me up."

* * *

"And that concludes the final Wizengamot meeting of the year," concluded the Supreme mugwump, Dumbledore. "I wish you all a Merry Christmas. _Uh-oh_ Ron thought noting the hard gaze the old man aimed right at him. "Hey Malfoy we need to get out of here before the old fart gets to us," Ron whispered.

"We got trouble on this end too," Malfoy whispered back. The Death Eaters were focusing all their attention on them now. Ron gulped.

"Are you sure they didn't find out?"

"Yes I'm sure," Malfoy insisted. "Which is why we need to leave now."

"But, what about getting support for Harry," Ron argued. It didn't feel right for the only thing he could say he accomplished was yelling at Malfoy in public and voting for cauldron bottom thickness.

"We didn't get the opportunity to talk to anyone remember?" Malfoy felt like clawing his hair out.

Ron looked down. Malfoy looked down. _Oh no._ "Longbottom, really," Malfoy cried looking at the still lightly snoring body of Neville.

"Well we talked to him and he's a part of our list," Ron argued.

Malfoy glanced at the Death Eaters warily. "Hurry up and wake him then," he urged. "I think those blokes are waiting until everyone left before trying to make a jump on us." The Gryffindor kicked the back of Neville's chair.

"Who the," Neville yelled out confused before recognizing Ron. "What do you want?"

Ron swung his arm around the confused Neville prompting Malfoy to do the same. "As a welcoming gift to myself, I felt like treating you to a drink. How about we go to the Leaky Cauldron for a night? Hmm?"

"Well, I don't know, " Neville mused. "I told Gran I'd be coming home early today."

"Oh come on it's only for a while," Malfoy urged.

" _Don't tell me he's coming,"_ Neville demanded.

" Yup," Ron answered brightly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that members of both the Death Eater faction and the Order faction were already making their move towards the boys. "And we also need to leave right now."

Ron and Malfoy guided the reluctant Neville to the entrance of the Wizengamot building passing by a group of vulture like reporters.

"Representative Prewett, what was your real reason for entering the Wizengamot," crowed one.

Another asked, "And what is your relationship with Representative Malfoy?"

"Isn't true that you were present on the day of Lucius Malfoy's arrest?"

"No comment," Ron kept repeating trying to wade through the sea of journalists. Seeing a way out, he cried, "Any questions regarding the reason why I joined can be directed to my brother, Representative Weasley. Good day." The reporters left, jumping towards a bewildered Bill.

"Ron," Bill roared. "Get back here."

 _Sorry Bill,_ Ron thought unapologetically. The wall of reporters managed to effectively block the boys' pursuers. Five minutes later, they found themselves out of breath having sprinted to the Leaky Cauldron and out of the public eye.

"We'd like three butterbeers please," Malfoy requested. "Preferably warm." _I've about frozen by buttocks here._ He stretched his aching limbs, ignoring the glare Tom aimed his way.

"So why exactly have you called me here," Neville asked wanting to get straight to the point.

"I told you to have a nice drink…," Ron gave up looking at the sceptical look on Neville's face.

"We want to be friends," Malfoy answered. Seeing the expression on Neville's face he added, "What? I'm a nice guy." Tom slammed the drink in front of him, miraculously not spilling a single drop. He nonchalantly accepted the drink and took a long sip just to antagonize the man further. Needless to say, Neville was not impressed.

"Oi, Tom," Ron called out. "Mind casting a couple silencing spells around us?" Tom, obliged and Ron turned back to the other two. "You see Neville, we're getting rid of the DA."

"What, why?" The DA was one of the best things that happened to Neville. _It was our group and now they're taking it away. Gran only likes me because of it._ "Is it because of him?" He pointed at Malfoy. "Is he threatening you?"

"Why are you so convinced I'm the root of all evil," Malfoy asked.

" 'Cause you are!"

"No, it's not because of this prick," Ron explained. "It was a well thought out decision." _Merlin, it's like explaining a divorce to a child._

" Yeah, the only person being blackmailed was me," Malfoy added. "Go yell at Granger, it's her fault."

"Anyways," Ron continued. "You're probably wondering why we sat together in the neutral section today instead of with the Order. You see…" Ron explained the circumstances surrounding Hermione's parents' deaths, the death of the librarian, Dumbledore controlling every aspect of Harry's life. At every sentence, Neville's eyes widened until Malfoy was afraid they'd pop out of his head.

" _Merlin,"_ Neville breathed. To think the man everyone idolized, the symbol of the light was actually doing this behind everyone's backs. _I need to tell Gran._

"While we are ending the DA," Ron started again. "We are starting a new group. A group that will enter the war as a third party under a leader the wizarding world can actually trust."

"And you want me to give Harry the support of the Longbottom family," Neville realized, eyes shining with determination. "If it's to defeat the Dark Lords of our time, then I will gladly do it. I will join the...what was it called again?"

"It's called," Ron rambled off, looking to Malfoy for assistance who just shrugged. "It's a work in progress."

"I will join 'it's a work in progress'," Neville finished proudly. "Wait what?"

"We don't exactly have a name," Ron admitted sheepishly.

"You need a name you know," Neville scolded. "If you just approached a possible ally and didn't sell them your organization well, they'd refuse you."

"How about Team Insert Name Here," Malfoy suggested. "It allows the other party to imagine an impressive sounding name."

"Yes that's just perfect," Ron sassed. "Just a three way battle between The Death Eaters, The Order of the Phoenix, and Team Insert Name Here. Very impressive."

Neville chipped in, "What about Team Harry?"

"That makes him sound like a narcissistic bastard," Malfoy rejected.

"I like the idea of The Order of the Ferret Eaters myself," Ron declared earning a death glare from Malfoy.

Malfoy exclaimed. "Ferrets deserve rights just like every other animal."

"Guys," Neville interrupted. "We're bollocks at this."

"That's true," Ron admitted. "Time to ask our esteemed leader then."

"Harry?" Neville didn't think the boy could come up with a better name either.

"No," Malfoy answered. "Granger."

 _What_ Neville thought.

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "But, Hermione would probably com up with a stupid acronym."

"Oh you're talking about SPEW," Neville put in.

"We got no other choice," Malfoy argued. "I'll just give her a quick message." He quickly jot down in his green charmed notebook:

 _Longbottom decided to join us but, he also said that we need a name for our faction. Surely you're smart enough to come up with one._

 _-Malfoy_

* * *

 _What the hell,_ Fred thought staring at the girl in front of him skeptically. _Is this some kind of joke?_ He looked over at his twin brother.

The look on George's face read _Naw man she's serious._ Fred narrowed his eyes. _But, why on earth would Dumbledore wish to do something like that. He's the bloody leader of the light!_

 _Of course they don't believe me,_ Hermione gritted her teeth. "He controlled Harry his entire life. You saw the living conditions Harry was under. His uncle literally put bars on his windows." The twins looked away guiltily. "Did you know, Harry had no idea about his heritage. That's he's a twice lord and owns property and the Potter business?"

George cried, "What? Who's been managing his estate then?"

"Who do you think?" Hermione leaned back into her chair.

"... this is serious," they answered. Fred asked, "So, Dumbledore just decided to tell Harry about his fortune now?"

"No," Hermione replied. "We found out about it ourselves."

George had a sinking feeling in his stomach. "What about the other witnesses?"

"Dead," Hermione responded simply. She noted the stricken faces and decided to go for the kill. "Funny, all the major deaths these days seem to revolve around Dumbledore and Harry. I told him about my parents. The librarian betrayed him by giving us the first clue to Harry's fortune. The witnesses, were murdered before they could tell Harry about his inheritance." Hermione bit the inside of her lip hard enough to draw tears from her eyes. She faked a tremble and covered her face with her hands, the very picture of a scared girl. "Now," she sobbed. "Now he's trying to kill me because I influenced Harry too much. All I wanted was to keep me and my friends safe."

"Wait, don't cry," Fred rushed. The twins made their way towards the witch, George awkwardly patting her on the shoulder. There was no doubt in their mind now, that Dumbledore might be targeting her life after all. "Alright, we'll join you. We owe Harry our very lives, right George?"

"Yeah!" George nodded his head rapidly. "We can't let our baby brother's best mates get killed. It wouldn't be good for business right Fred."

"Yeah no one would want to buy from a couple of heartless jerks."

Hermione hid a small grin from behind her hands and looked up at the twins after rubbing her eyes hard enough to make it seem like she was crying. "Are you sure?" The two nodded. She gave them a grateful smile. "Then we have work to do."

"What do you have in mind," asked George.

"We need spies in the Order," Hermione confessed. "Now that you both have graduated Hogwarts, you're both full members. Knowing what they're planning would be helpful." They both looked hesitant. "Think of it as a prank." _That perked them up_ Hermione thought amused at their lit up expressions. "We also need someone outside to spread the news of our organization."

Fred replied, "No problem. Kind of like a second DA minus the Dumbledore part. What's the new group going to be called?"

Hermione noticed her notebook in her pocket glow red. She held a finger up, _just a sec_ , and took it out. It read:

 _Longbottom decided to join us but, he also said that we need a name for our faction. Surely you're smart enough to come up with one._

 _-Malfoy_

 _Neville decided to join, they work fast._ But again with the name. Hermione felt embarrassed that despite all the planning, a name for the group that will one day destroy both the Death Eaters and the Order were currently nameless. Not to mention that every organization had a symbole. For Death Eaters it was a snake, the Order a glorified flaming chicken. Her eyes landed on a miniature model of a Hungarian Horntail on Fred's desk. _A dragon?_ She mused. _It's a simple symbol of power. Everyone would be able to recognize it. It's neither a light nor dark symbol which means that any wizard of any magical practice would feel welcome to join. Perfect for publicity. So we got our symbol._ Making up a name on the fly is hard.

 _The name must also be simple. Not too long, it needs to be something that is easily memorable. Nothing like SPEW I'm afraid. How about a 'the union of"... no. What about the Union by itself? Doesn't sound as good. What's another word for union? Wait…_ She figured it out.

"We're called **The Syndicate**."

* * *

Malfoy and Ron quietly portkeyed back to Harry's manor for a brief meeting before the Gryffindor trio headed back to the Burrow. _Today was rough_ Ron thought tiredly. _Between the boring meeting and ferret over here…_ Speaking of the ferret, Ron noticed that he was lagging behind.

"Oi Weasley," Malfoy called out suddenly. "You mind going ahead of me? I need some time to think. I'll be in soon."

Ron shrugged. "Suit yourself." He left the Slytherin in the courtyard by himself.

 _This is where I'll be living in for a while._ Malfoy took in the manor's appearance. Unlike the white walls of his own manor, this one was made out of bricks. The red was the prominent in this building. _My manor…_ Yes, the Malfoy manor did belong to him now, after he signed the papers that cast aside his father from the family tree. _Speaking of casting aside._

Malfoy reached into the inner left pocket of his robes and pulled out an ancient, weathered book. The age didn't match with the rest of the boy's belongings but was worth much more that the boy himself. The Malfoy crest was etched on the cover and the cover was black. _The Malfoy black book._ Right now his manor was overrun with vermin and as it was his job as the owner to get rid of them. At first he wasn't sure how to expel the Dark Lord but luckily Potter did tell him his real name. Under the safety of the unplottable Potter manor, Malfoy began to write,

 _Tom Riddle._

* * *

"What news have you brought me, Bella," Voldemort inquired softly. Nagini slithered by his side as the man himself sat relaxed at the head chair of the Malfoy dinner table.

Bellatrix sank to her knees. "My lord, we have received word that the man, Burke, who had been helping Draco is dead. Draco had been keeping this from us."

Voldemort reached a bony hand towards his snake stroking it's head. "Who killed him?"

Yaxley who had been trembling next to Bellatrix was the one that answered. "We don't know, my lord." He braced himself for a crucio but to his surprise one never came.

The calm expression never left Voldemort's face. "We must punish Draco later then."

Feeling quite brave Bellatrix asked, "You aren't furious my lord?"

Voldemort sent her a sharp gaze. "Are you trying to imply that I cannot control my temper, Bella," he hissed dangerously.

"No, no , no of course not."

"You see," Voldemort continued feeling generous enough to explain. "Little Draco had no chance of succeeding. How can a useless fifteen-year-old boy defeat the one wizard that managed to take me head on?" He gave his signature cold, high chuckle. "No, Dumbledore will die this year. I have a backup plan. But, Draco shouldn't have kept this from us. Where is the boy now?"

"We don't know my lord," Yaxley replied.

"You just let him leave," Voldemort asked. Without waiting for a reply, he cast, "Crucio." Yaxley fell to the ground writhing in pain. "What about Narcissa. She should know where her son is."

"She went shopping my lord," Bellatrix answered.

"Both are missing…" Part of his sentence was cut off, when Voldemort felt a force lift him in the air and throw him out the window. _Who dares attack me!_ He looked around only to see that he was thrown out on the outskirts of the estate just past the border. All around him, Death Eaters flew in the air and were dumped in the same manner he was. A shimmering light, not unlike a glass wall appeared and formed in front of Voldemort.

"What is going on," he yelled to a group of confused and frightened Death Eaters. "Is it the Order?"

"We seem to have been locked out," one Death Eater replied banging against the magical barrier.

Another group of Death Eaters suddenly apparated. "Oh no we were too late," declared one.

"Too late for what," Voldemort demanded.

It dawned on the Death Eater just who it was he was talking to. "Um you see my lord," he started cautiously. _Please don't kill me._ "We received word from one of our sources in Azkaban, that Lucius had been visited today by a couple goblins. They were there to inform him that his name and his family magic had been taken away from him so the current Malfoy lord is Draco Malfoy."

"Where is Draco now," Voldemort roared, taking out his wand. As if by 'magic' a letter fell from the air and landed softly in the grass before him. Waving his wand, the letter flew into his waiting hands.

It read:

 _It is my pleasure to inform you, that the House of Malfoy will no longer be affiliated with the Death Eater organization from this day forward. All members will be considered blood enemies of the House of Malfoy and are expelled from the Malfoy estate. Expect your funds to be canceled as well. Good Day._

 _Lord Malfoy_

" _Avada Kedavra,"_ Voldemort screamed at the man who gave the news of Lucius's current state. "Avada Kedavra." He shot randomly into the crowd. _How dare he._ How dare this boy betray him. "Listen well," he yelled at the fleeing crowd. "All of you, spend your efforts into getting me both Potter and this brat. I want them alive. I'll kill Draco Malfoy myself."

* * *

Draco stood in the courtyard shaking. Not with fear but with hysterical laughter. Oh he could imagine how angry the old crazy half-blood must be. With each person who was expelled from his manor, the words turned red on his list. The true nature of the Malfoy Black Book, was to write the names of your enemies on it, to protect your family from attacks. For Draco, every person expelled was just one step closer towards his freedom. The silly little grin on his face melted once the adrenaline of the moment came. For the sake of his freedom he painted a target on his back. No doubt the entirety of the Dark Lord's forces would be devoted into finding him, the traitor.

Draco looked up in that courtyard, at the starless sky and thought, _Oh Merlin, what have I done?_

* * *

 _A/N : Sorry for not updating in a while. Man I was busy. But, moving on with the story now. I got the next few chapters already planned out. Also some predictions if you have any. I love hearing from everyone. So please Read and Review._

 _This is my first time writing in Voldemort's point of view. I prefer writing Dumbledore's parts. But then again Dumbledore is my favourite character. Everyone loves a good villain am I right? XD_


	10. Scene Three II

Disclaimer: I don't own it. Sadly not rich enough

* * *

"The enemy of an enemy is a friend. But your enemy is your enemy's friend. Eventually the whole mess gets so confusing that it's better not to have enemies at all, don't you think?"

-Robert Hangelspore, author of _How Many Magical Wars Could Have Been Avoided_

* * *

"You decided to call us The Syndicate," Draco drawled from the couch in the Potter sitting room. "Great, now it sounds like we are trafficking drugs or something." Harry couldn't help but silently agree.

" _I think_ it's a great name," Ron challenged if only for the sake of arguing against Draco. Hermione sighed from her perch by the window. After the events of yesterday, she was looking forward to taking a little break and curling up with a wonderful book she discovered in the Potter library. There was no actual plans for the time being either.

"How are you holding up," she asked Harry who was standing in the corner, back perfectly straight as he balanced four books on his head.

"Oh fine," he answered. "Though I don't particularly understand why I'm doing this. I thought only prissy girls had to do this rot." Yes, he was feeling irritable as of late. promised him three days to turn him into a proper lord and she meant it. The Boy-Who-Lived had to wake up at the crack of dawn to learn all the proper etiquette of pureblood society.

"Cheer up mate," Ron called out. "At least your curtsey training is only due tomorrow." Draco stood up to make a mock curtsey making Harry reach for his wand. Hermione decided to ignore those idiots.

"I dare say, etiquette is something you are long overdue to learn Lord Prewett," cut in, gracefully entering the room. She was accompanied by a couple house elves including Nokky who were carrying trays of biscuits and tea. In the presence of the powerful woman, everyone immediately behaved. "You can take those off now," said dismissively. Harry gratefully removed the books and settled down on one of the couches.

"What I wish to know," began pouring herself a cup of tea, "is what you've got planned next." No one spoke. raised her eyebrows. "Really, you haven't thought about what to do next? You only planned as far as alienating Draco from the Dark Lord?"

"What we have done so far is cut off the main source of funding for the Death Eaters," Hermione argued. "As well as started recruiting members for our group." She closed the book in front of her with a thud and turned to address the woman fully. "Now, a couple of our members will work on advertising our cause outside of Hogwarts and we got another in Hogwarts with connections to the Wizengamot. Now we need to focus on Harry's debut into Wizard society."

"So you have thought this through somewhat," admitted grudgingly. "May I ask who you recruited so far?"

"Fred and George Weasley," Hermione answered. "And Neville Longbottom."

"Longbottom," repeated, taking a bit out of a biscuit. "Good choice. The Longbottoms are a very old and respected pureblood family." Ron shot Draco a triumphant look. "But," she continued. "You must have only spoken to Augusta's boy, Neville. If you really want their support you need to speak with Augusta. And knowing her she's one stubborn lady to get to do anything."

"So what you're saying is to meet up with Neville's gran then," Harry surmised. "Fine, I'll go pop in later and speak with her."

"Call her by her proper title," Mrs. Malfoy snapped. "What did I spend the last couple hours teaching you?"

"My bad," Harry apologized. "Madam Longbottom."

"No what you said was right," admitted. "Someone needs to go meet up with that woman. But not you!" Harry sank a little realizing that his plan to escape hadn't work. "Now personally I'd rather Draco went…"

"Wait why can't the fe- Draco go," Ron asked coughing over his slip.

"Because I'm currently the most wanted man in Death Eater circles," Malfoy replied snarkily. "In fact, I think I'm more famous than Potter right now. You jealous Potter?"

"No you can have it. All I need is to find a way to transfer my scar to you."

"I'm afraid the scar look will only ruin my beautiful face but, your kindness is noted."

Hermione cut in, "What about Ron?"

"Ron," the two boys yelled.

"Me," Ron shouted after.

"He's too crass," objected. "We're trying to get Agusta on our side not against us."

Hermione argued," No, I believe Ron is perfect for this mission. He's a friend of Neville which means Madam Longbottom wouldn't be too biased against him." _Not to mention that everyone underestimates him too much._ She saw Ron perk up at her recommendation. He was right, if she wanted to get anything done the first thing she needed to do was trust her friends more.

"I'll do it," Ron affirmed with determination. Before could object further, Ron left the room to write a letter to ask to meet Neville's gran face to face. looked at Hermione disapprovingly but was only met with the girl ignoring her having returned to reading her book. _Who does this filthy mudblood think she is. Undermining my authority like that!_

Harry shivered as a sudden wave of cold overwhelmed him. Within a couple minutes, Ron returned, choosing to sit back at his spot next to Harry.

"I sent the letter," the ginger-haired boy declared.

"Good," Hermione answered before could say anything. "Do you mind doing me a favour?"

"Sure what?"

"Could you go visit your brothers tonight and see how the design for our syndicate mark is going to look like?"

 _Willingly going to suffer at the hands of Fred and George_ Ron grumbled inwardly but after seeing Hermione stand up for him, he didn't have the heart to refuse. "Fine," he relented. "Tell me if you get any response back."

* * *

Ron walked down the streets of Diagon Alley. He ignored the looks bystanders gave him. After taking up the long- gone family name Prewett, all sorts of articles had been printed in the Daily Prophet about what this meant to the wizarding world. Everyone remembered the order You-Know-Who gave to exterminate the Prewett line.

He entered the large purple doors of his twin brothers' shop. "May I help you," asked the receptionist but Ron walked right by her and headed to the office alone ignoring the shouts of "Wait!" behind him.

Ron paused before the door, unsure if the twins had already prepared a prank inside but bravely decided to knock anyway.

"Come in," rang the obnoxious voices of his brothers.

"I'm only popping in for a bit, "Ron began taking a seat in one of the purple poofy chairs in front of their desks. When they saw him, both gave a mock gasp. Fred chose to almost fall to a faint and George resorted to fanning himself.

"Oh Ronny~," Fred cooed out.

"Our ickle Ronniekins," George added. "Look at you. Our famous itty,bitty lord."

"Shut up," Ron grunted. He already regretted coming when they both sprang around the desk and almost smothered him in their embrace.

"What did we do wrong," Fred cried out, still clutching Ron's head to his chest. "We raised you as an upstanding prankster."

George wiped a tear from his eye. "And now you chose to join the government. How could you follow in the footsteps of our prick brother?"

"Get offa me," Ron snapped pushing the two of them away. Both held their hands up in peace.

"We're just messing with you," George defended.

"So what did you come here today for little brother," Fred asked.

Ron replied, "Hermione just wanted to know how the designs were going for the Syndicate."

"We're almost done," answered Fred. He handed Ron a draft of what one of them might look like. A small silhouette of a generic dragon in earthy colours, brown with a hint of green. "Just a couple more days and it will be ready."

"That reminds me," George cut in. He took out a couple folded papers from his robes. "We almost forgot to hand him this Fred."

"Oh yeah, if we did Hermione would kill us."

"What is that," Ron asked when George handed the papers to him.

George responded, " Besides being the chief artists in our little vigilante group, we're also acting as spies in the Order. Dumblefarts was in a right mood yesterday wasn't he Fred?"

"That's right George. Calm as always but there was some fire in his eyes. He didn't really appreciate the little slip you gave them yesterday Ron."

"Neither did Bill," George added snickering.

"That's right," Fred said between laughs. "He came barging in here red as a tomato about as pissy as mum can get sometimes. Demanding where you were and stuff. I was right about to piss myself."

 _Oh crap Bill,_ Ron remembered. "Is he still at home."

"No," the twins replied. "He left saying he'll be back by New Years."

"Well, I better be heading off now," Ron said gathering his things. "Thanks for everything."

"No problem little bro."

* * *

Once again, Ron found himself strolling down Diagon Alley. He had time to spare having left his brothers' shop and he didn't feel like returning to the Potter mansion just yet. _Perhaps a drink at the Leaky Cauldron is just what I need_ he mused. It was hard to believe that just a few months ago, he lived a somewhat simple life out of the media spotlight and not in a three way war. _Time just flies by doesn't it?_

A hand suddenly grasped his left arm. "Wait!"

Alarmed, Ron flipped around and pulled out his wand, focusing it at his assaulter only to meet that tired, wary face of Percy Weasley. " What the bloody hell do you want?"

"Just to talk," Percy replied softly. "Just to talk Ronny."

"How's mum doing," Percy asked looking down at his mug of butterbeer. He never lifted his eyes from the amber liquid.

Ron took a sip of his own drink. "How's that any of your business? You abandoned us." Percy flinched. Ron found that he just didn't care. "Why did you do it?" Percy didn't answer so Ron answered for him, "Because you were a boot-licking power hungry prick that's why."

Percy's mouth thinned. "Look I know you're furious at me…"

"Save it Perce I don't need you sniveling all over me," Ron scolded. His brother perked up at the use of his family pet name. "Why did you want to speak with me?"

"Why...well I um," Percy sputtered. He cried, "What on earth were you thinking painting a target over our heads like that? I saw you in the Wizengamot meeting. Mum clearly said she wanted the Prewett line to die with her."

"I'm doing what you did and following my beliefs except mine are right," Ron said snidely.

"What beliefs?"

Ron ignored his question, "You were right Perce." His brother looked at him dumbfounded. Ron grinned. "I bet this'll make you feel smug hearing the words you were right."

"About what?"

"Dumbledore," Ron replied. "Except Dumbledore didn't want the ministry. He already has the wizarding world in his hand."

Percy looked at him incredulously. "I lost you." And so Ron gave a brief account about what they discovered about Dumbledore. His slow rise to power taking over the most influential position as head of the Wizagamot, International Council, and Headmaster of the sole wizarding school in Britain with nearly complete say over what is being taught to the magical youth. How people that conflicted with his interest seemingly disappeared and the mysterious connection between the Headmaster and the Granger murders.

"This man is worse than a Dark Lord Perce, because at least people know they're being controlled when ruled over by a Dark Lord." Ron didn't really expect a response. Percy sat looking confused as he realized that he was being ostracized for something he actually saw coming. Though he expected the old man's aims to have been much smaller.

"You said that he had been controlling every aspect of Harry's life," Percy asked for clarification. "And that the only thing he actually took from Harry was a book?"

"Yes." Ron took a another sip. "How would you like to join us?"

"Really?"

"Think of it as a way to redeem yourself." Ron pulled out a handout Fred had given him about the final draft for the logo design Fred had given him previously. "Our calling card."

Percy read, "The Syndicate." He raised his eyebrows. "Wow I didn't think Harry had that much of a flair for the dramatic."

"Hermione chose it actually."

"But why do you want me to help you after all I did," Percy searched for the answer on Ron's face.

"Percy, you may be a git," Ron began. "But inside I believe you're a good person. The wizarding world deserves to be free from people like Dumbledore and You-Know-Who. Use your position in the Ministry for something good for once in your life." On that note, Ron slammed the empty butterbeer cup on the table and left his bewildered brother behind.

Percy sat pondering over the meeting with his youngest sibling. While his relationship with Ron was rocky at best, Percy had always felt he got along with Ron the best out of all them. Even so, he expected Ron to throw him aside like the rest of the family, but strangely Ron was more accepting than he thought. But what he asked of Percy troubled him. _He practically asked me to spy on the Ministry?_ The Ron of a couple months ago would never have asked him to do it. _He changed._

It wasn't several minutes later, that Percy realized that Ron left, leaving him with the bill.

* * *

"Come here," barked an elderly, scratchy voice.

"Yes gran," replied Neville's meek one. He entered the sitting room of the Longbottom manor. The entire building was painted in soft colours that screamed Hefflepuffs despite the family's lineage of Gryffindors. There in the center on a rocking chair sat the most un-Hefflepuff stern old lady Neville had ever met. That was Grandma Longbottom.

"Sit," Mrs. Longbottom ordered gesturing to the couch across from her.

"Yes gran." Neville sat not looking forward to whatever the old lady was about to say.

She handed him a letter. "Read this." Neville accepted warily, skimming it and noticed with pleasant surprise that it was from Ron. "I didn't know you were friends with Lord Prewett."

"He was one of my mates that I went with to the Ministry, gran."

"And he wants to meet with me," muttered. "This kid's got spunk." She smiled a bit. Neville was surprised by her reaction. He was sure she'd try to eat Ron alive for daring to ask to see her.

"So when should I tell him to visit," Neville asked.

's eyes darkened. "You won't" She sat up straighter in her chair giving the aura of power. "The Longbottoms have celebrated centuries of neutrality until Frank decided to join Dumbledore."

"No Gran," Neville refused. "This alliance will be beneficial for the family."

"I _order_ you not to accept this meeting."

 _What the, she was just happy about Ron asking to visit._ Neville had enough. "Gran, you are no longer the head of the house." His voice never raised to a yell but anyone could tell that Neville was being firm about his position. "I am. And I will accept this meeting because I am thinking of what's best for the family and if we need to throw our lot with a side why not a side I can trust."

Instead of the huge blowout he expected from his gran, just chuckled and settled back into her chair. "Sometimes Neville you just make me proud." Neville never really understood his grandmother.

* * *

Harry mindlessly ran his hands over the books on the shelf. Hermione had dragged him over to the library to unlock it for her. Already she sat in one of the corner table, her body hidden from view by the huge tower of books she settled on the table. Only he could lock or unlock the library for some reason according to what his house elf Nokky said. Fiction books, Non-fiction books, books on cooking, books on light magic, books on history. All sorts of genres littered the shelves of the Potter library. On one side there was a shelf that looked newer than the rest. Harry walked over to get a closer look.

 _Lily's favourites._ That was the label. Harry drank the titles of the books he saw on that shelf. He could already tell that his mother treasured every book because of the slight worn look they all had to them. Like they had been read multiple times before. Harry selected one at random. _The Discovery of Modern Potion Ingredients._ Harry flipped through the pages and an aged post-it note fell out. Kneeling down he picked it up. _Note to self, get Harry a play potions set when he gets a little older,_ was what it said in cursive. Harry choked back a sob. Looking left and right to make sure no one was watching, he wiped a tear from his eye and quickly placed the book back on the shelf...but he pocketed the note.

Calming himself, he explored the rest of the library. At each table there was a case with a book inside. These books were the most priceless in the entire library. Harry could tell why it was the most secure in the entire manor. Each one was filled with a book, a journal of some sorts that were written by a Potter. Some books dated as far back as the 1400s and were close to falling apart. Some detailed Gregory Potter's adventures across the globe and his discoveries. Another Agnus Potter had invented her own famous potions that Harry recognized in the textbooks in Potions. Only one case lay empty, the name read, Charles Potter. _My Grandfather?_ Harry could see that a book had been placed inside from the book shape of the dust inside. _Where is it?_

"Nokky," Harry called out. A loud pop rang out as the elderly elf appeared out of nowhere.

Still clutching a can in his hand, Nokky gave a low bow. "How may I help you sir?"

"The book in this case where is it?"

Nokky thought for a minute and shook his head solemnly. "I'm afraid I do not know sir. That case had been empty for as long as Nokky remembers." Harry gave a defeated sigh. "But," Nokky continued. "I remember something my mother had told _Nokki_ long ago" Harry noticed that the old houself had gotten so frightened by the memory that he returned to his previous way of speech. That there was a place that house-elves must never clean. And that was this spot. It was the only thing Master Charles had gotten angry about."

"My grandfather didn't want anyone to touch a case," Harry asked.

"Not the case sir, the book. One day young master James had tried to open it and Master Charles had been quite furious. One day, he had taken the book out of the case and I have no idea where he put it."

 _That means that this was the book Dumbledore stolen_ Harry put two and two together. _Just what was in it?_ He stared at the empty case as if it would suddenly tell him the answer.

* * *

was going over the letter she forced Harry to write to practice his penmanship. She had to begrudgingly admit that the boy was improving. She removed the reading glasses she put on specifically to look at documents carefully. Her son knocked on the door. "May I come in," he asked with the utmost respect.

She answered with a warm smile. Draco entered the room. "You don't agree that Longbottom is enough for now do you," he started.

"No I don't," replied.

"Then should I ask _them?"_

Mrs. Malfoy smirked. "Are you sure they'd ever join us?"

"Oh mother," Draco teased. "They're Slytherins. They'd change sides at a drop of a dime if they thought it suited them."

"You shouldn't contact them yet," warned. "Only after Harry's debut."

* * *

Ron found himself portkeying to meet the scariest woman he had ever laid eyes on. He recalled the coaching that had given him before setting him loose on the road. _Do not agonize her_ was one of them. To his relief, the one the opened the door to welcome him in was Neville and not the devil Grandma.

"Gran's sitting in the living room," Neville pointed out as Ron removed his shoes. "Don't be so scared," Neville reassured the shaking boy. Ron relaxed. "She can smell fear."

 _Thank you Neville,_ Ron thought when he started to stiffen up again. On the same rocking chair as before, sat and Ron could easily say that she terrified him. Her hawk-like eyes turned to meet his and bore into him as if wanting to see through his soul. So unlike the soft brown of Neville, the almost black eyes made Ron feel like a cornered animal. The eyes of nearly every Wizengamot member Ron met. He resisted the urge to gulp and approached the lady calmly but with caution. Once he stood in front of her, reached out a wrinkled hand which Ron barely remembered he had to peck as manners demanded.

With approval, inclined her head towards the couch which gave Ron permission to sit. Neville, a calming presence, sat next to him.

"I've heard much about you Lord Prewett," began, ignoring pleasantries. Ron felt thrown off, being addressed in such a direct way. _This wasn't what coached me._ The wizard decided to go with the plan and start polite small talk,

"Madam Longbottom, how are you," Ron asked nervously.

"Let's just get straight to business," cut him off. "What is this little game you're playing at?"

"Gran!"

Ron reached out an arm to calm his friend. "It's ok." He turned back towards the vulture-like woman. It seems like playing by the rules wouldn't work. "We wish to give Neville the chance to gain a high position once the war is over having joined the winning side."

"You're talking about the Order I'm sure," drawled. "The same Order which took my son away from me."

"Not the Order, gran," Neville interrupted.

"Oh then some amateur group that has no chance is surviving," she scoffed.

Ron narrowed his eyes. "Oh yes, if by amateur group you're talking about the heir of Potter and Black who is currently allied by the House of Malfoy and Prewett. Yes, we have no power."

For the first time, let a flash of surprise show in her eyes but just as quickly it was gone. "Black, but the last surviving member died...Harry! Harry's been named Black?"

"Yes and with the House of Longbottom, our standing in society will be more solidified."

"What do you want in return," challenged.

Ron raised his arms in defense. "All we want is Neville to join us as our friend. That's it. Simple right?" He leaned back knowing he had the woman sold.

* * *

Percy signed off the last papers before his lunch break. He swiveled around in his wheely chair. The Ministry had insisted on providing them for all office employees after visiting a couple muggle institutions. _Dad must be loving this._ He really needs to stop thinking about his family. _But at least Ron is talking to me again._ Percy scowled. _Even though he left me the bill the twat._

"Weatherby," barked the voice of Scrigmeour.

"Yes Minister," Percy tiredly replied. He swiveled around to meet with the lion-like man. Why couldn't any of his bosses remember what his name was. Weasley wasn't that hard to pronounce for Merlin's sake.

"Get the charts for budget usage in the auror office ready for my meeting with Shacklebolt." Then the Minister left just as abruptly as he came.

"Yes, Minister." As if he didn't have enough to do. Luckily, Percy anticipated that he would be asked to look over the budget so he started with the Auror office first. _Even though this is not my job._ Everyone dumped all the work on him. _Well at least the only one that's left is the Department of Magical Education._

 _All normal as far as I can see._ He went to the next page where he stopped.

 _How come all of a sudden, more money is being spent on these organizations?_

It was true, much of the money allotted for the Department was being spent on these programs. Hundreds of thousands of galleons sent to programs like, Muggle Student Aid Fund, and Teacher's Wages Fund. But as long as Percy could remember Hogwarts was mostly filled with half bloods and purebloods. With this much money being spent on providing aid for muggleborns, Hogwarts should be filled with almost half. Same with the Teacher's Wages Fund, more teachers should be teaching at Hogwarts with this money. How come the other programs are given less money and show more results?

Percy checked to make sure no one was looking and waved his wand over the document. He would make sure to check into it later.

* * *

"Where is the boy," demanded Voldemort from his new perch at the head table of Rookwood's manor.

"Potter," a Death Eater inquired.

"No," Voldemort roared. "Malfoy!"

"My lord, I'm afraid the Malfoy boy is nowhere to be found," Dawlish replied with reverence. Snape sat next to him disgusted as this whole display. Ever since Draco had made his dramatic exit, the Dark lord had made it perfectly clear to everyone exactly how displeased he was. The pain from the multiple cruicios had not left Snape's mind. Life as a spy was not as glamorous as muggle movies depicted it to be.

"We will find the boy soon my lord," Snape reassured hastily noticing the psychotic man reach for his wand.

Voldemort turned sharply towards his follower. Snape paled under his gaze once again thankful for his skill in Occlumency. "Was Dumbledore involved?"

Snape shook his head rapidly. "The old fool had nothing to do with this. In fact the Order is searching for boy as well."

"There's no way the boy is acting alone," Rookwood challenged.

"It's Potter I can feel it," Voldemort hissed.

 _Potter? Impossible._ "Potter is still under the old fool's influence," Snape argued. "He's merely a pawn nothing else." _Potter couldn't lead anyone out of an iron cauldron let alone convince the one person who hates him the most._

Voldemort ordered, "Keep an eye on the Order in case they receive news on the Malfoy. It is pertinent that we reach him before the Order does." _He will die slowly for what he did._

"Yes, milord," Snape agreed.

A screechy laugh sounded after that. "Oh please like you'd find Draco for us," Bellatrix challenged. "Or did you forget that promise you made with my blood traitor sister, hmmm?" _Shut up_ Snape helplessly willed the woman.

"Just what is this promise," Voldemort asked,voice dangerously calm.

"It was before their betrayal, an unbreakable vow," Snape hastily replied. "Witnessed and cast by Bellatrix herself." He cast the crazy witch a nasty look. "The terms were that I would protect the boy as best as I could."

Snape waited for the crucio to bite his skin again but it strangely never came. "You're not allowed to search for the boy," Voldemort ordered softly. Snape wasn't sure if this was any better than being tortured. "Just focus on spying on the Order."

"Yes milord."

* * *

"Ah Severus welcome back," Dumbledore beamed at the man as he came in. Snape gave him the barest of nods and sat down across from him. "What news have you brought me this time about _our old friend?"_

"Draco is nowhere to be found," Snape started rubbing the bridge of his nose. "He's been missing along with his mother ever since he ran off with Weasley."

"About that," Dumbledore added. "Molly's been telling me about how after giving her youngest son the title of her birth family, he's been spending a lot of time out of the house along with Harry and Miss Granger. How he got close to young is anyone's guess."

"You don't know where Harry's been," Snape asked shocked. Usually the man always knew about where his charge was in an almost creepy manner.

"Recently I felt there is something off about Harry," Dumbledore admitted. "Like he's hiding something." _Somehow it's not Harry that bothers me but Miss Granger. Sometimes the girl was too bright for her own good._ He really hadn't counted on the girl figuring out the connection Voldemort had with Burke. That lesson was only supposed to come later but as expected she had done some digging up on her own. Who knows what else she could have found out? Something had to be done about her.

"Voldemort pulled me out of the search squad," Snape declared pulling the man from his thoughts. He didn't want the man getting the wrong idea about how Snape was the perfect person to find Draco for the Order. It would only blow his cover.

"Of course, Severus," Dumbledore agreed. "I'll get Kingsley to assist us on the matter. The poor boy must feel so frightened. Sometimes I think we sort too soon. That was true bravery that boy had shown." He chuckled softly at Snape's reaction.

The Potions master politely excused himself and left the Headmaster's office. It was not bravery that Draco had shown. He saw an advantage leaving the Dark Lord's service that no one else had yet. At least he was free. Snape absentmindedly reached his hands to his neck and started to scratch the red, raw skin that had been scratched many times before. As if trying to pull off the shackles that were never really there.

* * *

 _It's d-day_ Harry thought as he pushed open the doors of Gringotts. Only a couple hours before he would cement his status in the wizarding world as a twice lord. At his sides was Draco Malfoy, his first appearance in public after his defection and Ron Weasley, the surviving member of a long dead line. Harry just hoped no one would try to attack them. He approached a goblin teller.

"I scheduled an appointment with my account manager, Grimjaw," Harry started firmly. The goblin teller gave him a bored glance and pointed to a couple oak doors to the side.

Harry complied and opened the doors revealing a long hallway which many doors on either side for each office. Remembering the number, Harry promptly walked towards the door labeled Grimjaw. Harry knocked, and a growl indicated for them to enter.

Once again, Harry was blown away by the sheer normality of the office like all normal bank offices in Muggle London. Malfoy and Ron were not so impressed taking a seat without the goblin offering them. Grimjaw seemed to give him a weird look when he saw Harry remain standing.

"You may sit Mr. Potter," Grimjaw allowed. Potter took a seat in the middle of the two. "How may I help you today?"

"I'd like to accept my lordships," Harry declared.

Grimjaw paused before bring out the necessary paperwork. " and will be your witnesses so they will need to sign as well." As soon as he gave the instructions, the goblin left to fetch the rings.

Draco decided to have a little fun. "Are you ready Potter?"

"Ready for what?"

"There's a blood sacrifice involved. You need to give like what half a pint, right Weasley?"

Ron decided to play along. "For me it was two."

"Oh dear, Potter and you're accepting two!" Draco gave a mock gasp and enjoyed the sickly shade of green Harry turned into. Harry jumped when the door flew open and the goblin returned to the room with two small cases for both rings.

"Are you ready Mr,Potter?"

Harry gulped. "What do I have to do?"

"Just put on the rings and if they accept you then you are the Lord of that House able to shoulder all the House responsibilities and privileges."

 _Is that it?_ Harry scowled at a giggling Draco and Ron. "What happens if you fail the test," he asked a little braver.

To his discomfort, Grimjaw's mouth settled in the creepiest grin he ever laid eyes on. "Boom," the goblin simply said.

Harry gulped again but steeled his resolve. He closed his eyes and place on both of the hideous, gaudy rings. A few agonizing seconds later, he opened them marveling at the fact that he was still alive.

 _Well that was anticlimatic_ Harry thought as he signed some more papers making him Lord Potter-Black and was sent on his way. He certainly didn't feel any different, but knew that his new status would have been automatically registered in the Ministry.

"You looked like you were about to piss yourself," Draco taunted.

Harry threatened," Shut up or I'll deliver you to Voldemort myself."

"But then you would die because of the unbreakable vow you made with me."

"How about this," Ron cut in. " _I'll deliver_ him to You-Know-Who. Didn't make an unbreakable vow now did I?"

"Ron," Draco breathed. "How could you, I thought we were friends."

"Sorry, I'm Harry's mate."

"Then what are we," Draco asked.

"You're our pet ferret," Harry retorted avoiding a punch from the irate Slytherin.

* * *

At the same time, Percy had snuck into the Department of Magical Education after stealing the key from one of his office mates. Everyone was on break so he was sure he wouldn't get caught but still kept a cautious eye out. Heading straight for the Department Head's office, Percy searched for the record on the funds he was sure were being stolen. That much money, the only person who can sign them away are Department heads. Eleanor Headwick was the Department head but asking her was out of the question.

He took a peek at her files before finding the ones he was looking for. Without looking, Percy copied all of them for future reference later. The erasing all traces of his being there, the Weasley left taking his findings with him back in the safe privacy of his own office.

Pasting the copied documents onto empty pieces of parchment, Percy put on his spectacles and looked to see who was in charge of them. For the Muggleborn Financial Aid, Kingsley was the head. For the Teacher's Wages, the head was Hestia Jones. The only connection they both had was being Order members. But where was the money going? If it was going where Percy suspected it was, this was a scandal of disastrous proportions. But, he had no evidence. He had to keep digging...

* * *

 _Perhaps I should visit Harry today_ , Dumbledore wondered as he prepared for the first Wizengamot meeting of the year. Just to see how much of Miss Granger's poisonous influence had corrupted the boy. _And if that corruption can be reversible._ The boy was the greatest work Dumbledore had ever achieved. This plan had started way before the boy was even born, the last thing he needed to do was to fail.

Dumbledore gathered a couple pieces of parchment labeling what the meeting would discuss today. At the top of the pile, was the Wizengamot register which had suddenly began to glow a soft yellow.

Already, members of the Wizengamot had gathered in the room taking their usual seats. Dumbledore noticed the figure of the elusive young taking his new seat in the center of the auditorium. To his displeasure, had taken a seat beside them. They also had a new member, young had taken a seat one space to the right of . Just what on earth was going on?

His attention was once again brought back to the glowing parchment. The only other recent time the register glowed was when had decided to join the Legislative branch of the Ministry. The Headmaster felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. _Merlin…_ He looked at the new name and his deepest fears were confirmed. In black ink was a new name: _**Representative Potter-Black.**_

There was no time, Dumbledore had to leave now. The moment the boy arrived and took a seat, he would be lost to him forever. Anyone who becomes a lord and takes a seat in the Wizengamot is immediately emancipated and the boy was too important to just be let go. If he made it to the Ministry in time there could be time to appeal the decision.

His thoughts came too late as the boy had entered the auditorium. Pale blue-eyes met with green and in that moment Dumbledore realized that there was nothing he could do. An extreme feeling of rage overwhelmed him, one he hid well. It was all that girl's fault! If it wasn't for her. Yes, something had to be done.

The hall was devoid of any noise. Unperturbed, Harry walked towards the center floor of the Wizengamot, right on the spot he had been tried just the year before. Except this time, he would join the ranks of those who tried to incriminate him.

A charming smile on his face, staring down at Death Eaters and Order members alike he greeted, " Good Morning. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Representative Potter-Black."

This moment would later on be put down in history as the birth of the third major player in the third Wizarding War.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the late upload. I'm taking a couple courses and that plus Eid... Anyway here's the new chapter. I'll try to upload more often. Finally Harry is out in the open! And Dumbledore is thinking of doing something drastic. What is Hermione going to do I wonder? Read and Review please!


	11. Scene Four II

Disclaimer: This isn't my universe.

* * *

"In this world there is nothing more primitive, more low than a muggle. Yet there is nothing we fear more than muggles. Why? Because despite their weaknesses, muggles hold more drive that us wizards cannot hope to compare to."

-Marcus Simmons, _ex-pureblood supremacist_

* * *

"Thanks a lot for doing this for me mate. I really appreciate it," Percy whispered at his fireplace. Connected by floo was his longtime co-worker and friend Jacob. A young man in his thirties with sandy hair.

"No, it's my pleasure," Jacob said. "Especially after all work I dumped on you the week before. Something like this is nothing."

Percy let loose a relieved sigh. "Oh good. What I'm asking you to do isn't exactly squeaky clean."

"You'd be surprised about the stuff I do for the other boys."

Percy nodded dumbly. "So what did you find?"

"About those funds you found," Jacob began. He ruffled his head nervously. "The ones headed by Kingsley Shacklebolt and Hestia Jones…" Jacob handed Percy a couple pieces of parchment. "They're both sent to an organization called _Pyrrich."_

"Who?"

" _Pyrrich_ ," Jacob repeated. "They're a non-profit, American organization that was founded by a couple retired professors from the Salem Institute fifty years ago that wanted to improve the conditions in magical schools for students and professors alike around the world." The man frowned.

"How kind of them," Percy spoke flatly. "What's the matter? You're making a face like you're sucking a lemon."

James explained, " It's currently headed by a middle aged man named Simon Picket, a so-called philanthropist. His website shows claims he had helped millions of children around the world."

"You're using one of those muggle contraptions?" Percy wrinkled his nose.

"Yes, something called Google. It's surprisingly useful."

Percy flipped through the documents Jacob had handed him, looking over the names of the employees of _Pyrrich_. "These are only the people working there. What do you have on the bloke himself?"

Jacob paused for a moment before continuing, "That's just it. I don't have anything on him."

"What."

The expression on Jacob's face was solemn. "There is no Simon Picket."

Percy's eyes bugged out. "Pardon?"

"He doesn't exist."

* * *

Harry walked slowly for the first time in his life enjoying the gapes the onlookers gave him as he approached the steps. Dumbledore made a small motion as if wanting to stop him as Harry walked past him not sparing him a glance. It was blatantly clear which side belonged to who in the Wizengamot. The Death Eaters glared at him while the Order simply looked shocked. Finally, he found where Ron and Draco had been sitting. This time joined by a determined Neville.

Dumbledore gave a meaningful glance at his faction. A couple members nodded and shifted over to the side ready to grab Harry and make him sit with them once he passed by their area. Harry noticing this, never let his smile falter. The flashes from the reporter's gallery became more frequent when he changed direction and approached the stairs by the Death Eaters. As if they could do anything to him anyway.

In a couple silent, agonizing moments for everyone but the boy, Harry changed directions once again and sat himself at the center of the Moderate faction Draco, Ron, and Neville at his sides. Whispers broke out immediately from the reporters taking as many pictures as they could. Harry looked at Dumbledore and gave the man a smile which to the onlooker appeared friendly but the Headmaster knew better.

 _He's mocking me._ Dumbledore cleared his throat getting his composure back. The familiar kindly expression was on his face.

He announced, "It's to our great pleasure that we are able to welcome another member to our body. Representative Potter-Black…" Harry inclined his head. "We look forward to your service."

"Now onto today's matters," Dumbledore continued. "We need to come to a decision whether the Department of Rune Research should receive cuts."

Harry tuned out the boring drivel.

"Hello Harry," Neville whispered with a little grin.

"Great to see you Neville," Harry whispered back.

"Now we said our 'hellos' let's get to work shall we," Draco cut in.

"What work?"

"Malfoy and I were surveying the area before and we found out who our biggest threats are," Ron explained.

Harry scanned the crowd around him. "Like who?"

"Rookwood of the neighbourhood friendly Death Eaters," Draco answered. "And Dumbledore's new Ministry Golden Boy, Amos Diggory."

"Diggory," Harry repeated.

"Yeah Malfoy found out that Scrigmeour is going to be offed soon," Ron whispered. "That's why we need to make sure none of those blokes get the Minister's position."

"I'm not going to be the Minister of Magic," Harry argued.

"I think what they're trying to say is that we're going to get you to endorse the next Minister," Neville added.

"That way," Draco explained. "The public won't be so quick to blame you if anything goes wrong and we have the Ministry in our hands. The next couple months are going to be tense I hope you're ready."

"Ok," Harry nodded. "Now who are we going to target?"

"You're going to have a chat with Susan later," Ron instructed. "But only at school. We don't want to start anything too quickly. Then after Susan, Hannah. She lost her mother recently so you need to be careful with her."

"I'll be talking to Representative Parkinson," Draco put in.

"Well if we're going to lie low then it's probably best that I stay out of the media's spotlight then," Harry advised.

"Other than giving the other Lords and Mistresses handshakes and a polite greeting that's all the media will be able to pick up on," Ron replied. "Especially Dumbledore. I'll be the media spokesperson for our group. You leave with Neville after the meeting."

"Got it."

The meeting was short since it was the beginning of the year. Dumbledore gave the parting words and the Wizengamot was adjourned because a decision had not been reached. Harry stayed behind a bit after being swarmed by a bunch of reporters that circled around him like vultures. He smiled giving them a, "no comment" and followed Neville out of the room.

The plan was for them to quickly leave and return to the Potter manor to have one last planning session before they returned to Hogwarts. They reached the doors of the Ministry before a voice stopped Harry in his tracks.

"Harry my boy," called out Dumbledore brightly. "Mind waiting a bit for me?"

Harry had no choice but to smile at the man warmly and wait. There were too many eyes watching after all. "Ah Supreme Mugwump what can I do for you?" He used the Headmaster's formal title to distance himself publicly from the man.

"Just wanted to have a quick word," Dumbledore insisted. "How about we take our conversation elsewhere."

"I'm afraid I need to leave," Harry declined politely. "Perhaps we can continue this conversation some other time."

"It's quite urgent," Dumbledore said voice still light and pleasant.

"So is the appointment we have sir," Neville cut in. "We must be gone." Dumbledore threw him a glance.

"This is about your safety _my boy,"_ Dumbledore explained sounding concerned but there was an edge to his voice. "With Voldemort still at large and the prophecy over your head, what I say could save lives." The threat was clear but Harry was not about to back down.

"I appreciate the concern but if it's about _defeating dark lords,_ I got that covered," Harry kindly refused.

"Lord Potter, what do you mean by that," the reporters cried that gathered around them.

"Very well," Dumbledore softly relented. "I hope you change your mind in the future."

* * *

"Are you daft Potter," Draco shouted at a sulking Harry. "What gave you the bright idea to tell the public that we have a plan against the Dark Lord?"

"I had to get rid of the old fart somehow," Harry defended.

"Draco, let it go," ordered Narcissa Malfoy. Her son shut up. "The damage's been done. Luckily, Potter's already got some credentials as an anti-Dark Lord weapon which should appease them for now…" She bit her lip in an unladylike manner. _The Potter boy had really caused a problem didn't he?_

"So what can we do now," Hermione asked. She was flipping through another book. "Dumbledore is onto us now. If we don't plan our next step soon, he will make his move."

"That's right," Harry agreed. "He tried to threaten me when I didn't go with him. It won't be long until he discovers the existence of the Syndicate."

Mrs. Malfoy sighed. "No need to be so hasty. You've already accomplished what you wanted to this break. The next step starts when you begin school. Just focus on enjoying probably the last few days of freedom you'll get. After the break it's back to work."

"Don't mind if I do," Ron agreed heading straight for the kitchen. Draco just shook his head disappointment and headed out to clear his head. Harry soon followed suit. Eventually only Narcissa and Hermione were left in the room.

 _Why is that annoyance still here_ the lady wondered glaring at the girl. Hermione gave no indication of noticing her glances and continued to read her book. Mrs. Malfoy wished she would just leave. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck with an insufferable _know-it-all._ Especially a useless mudblood who didn't know her place. _How does Potter and Weasley put up with her?_

"Do you have a problem with me," Hermione asked suddenly snapping the Malfoy out of her thoughts. This had been bothering the girl for a long time.

"I beg your pardon," replied Narcissa aghast.

"I've been ignoring it until now," Hermione continued, voice still light and pleasant, as if they were discussing the weather. "All the looks and the glares. But it's hard to ignore now. You seem to hate me for some reason."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Yes you do."

The ex-Slytherin couldn't help it anymore. That brat needed to be put in her place. She blurted, "I can't stand this holier-than-thou attitude you have. Some mudblood like you who thinks she's smarter than everyone else. You hardly did anything and you still keep it up." Every word was said to cut into the girl like a thousand knives. "A filthy _mudblood_ like you." The lady practically spit at the word.

"If I had a galleon for every time someone called me a mudblood," Hermione chuckled. "I'd be one rich witch. Though…" The smile slid out of her face. "Calling me an egotistic person is the same as the pot calling the kettle black." Hermione closed the book in her lap and stood up to leave. She let out a deep sigh. _No one really changes their nature_ Hermione realized bitterly. _Not even me._

"To be honest," she explained. "I can understand why other people may not like me. I'm not one of the easiest people to get along with. Heck, you're totally free to hate me as well but, never forget."

The girl leaned close towards the Malfoy matriarch and spoke frankly, "The reason why you and Malfoy are safe in this little hidey hole is because of me. Not Harry. Not Ron. Me." She drank in the bewilderment in the Pureblood's face. "Harry and Ron were fully prepared to turn you in to Dumbledore and the Order, it was _my_ insisting that saved your lives. _You owe me."_ Realization dawned on Narcissa's face which quickly turned into fear as the magic of the magical debt crackled around both witches.

Hermione ordered, " _Do not let_ your prejudice hinder this mission."

The Gryffindor witch leaned away and smiled brightly. "Just something to think about. I hope we work well together." And then she made her way to the door. Mrs. Malfoy was left speechless.

"One more thing," Hermione added. "The reason I haven't involved myself much in the political side of our scheme is because I trust you and Draco. I have my own projects to work on as well. Something in my line of expertise." The woman caught sight of the book's title, _The Development of Modern Spells._

* * *

 _Sneaking around your own home is kind of weird_ Harry determined, still sneaking around anyway. Honestly he wasn't doing a great job at it since all the houseelves seemed to see him and waved hello as he passed. But, his pride was what kept him tiptoeing around corner checking to see if anyone had spotted him.

Harry reached the library doors, unsure of why he headed there. There was nothing in the case after all unless the dust could shed light to the mystery of the stolen book. Harry entered and his eyes immediately looked for Hermione...who was sitting in the corner devouring a book with her eyes. _Oh phew, she won't notice what I'm doing at all then._ Why Harry didn't want anyone to find out about his little treasure hunt, he had no clue. It just felt like something he should do privately.

He ran his hands over the clear cover of the case. There were no marks or anything to indicate that it was broken. Who would replace an empty case when the thing it was protecting was gone? Nokky also said that his grandfather had removed the book himself before it was eventually stolen by Dumbledore. Harry had pored over the other journals left behind. Each covered a different topic whether it be the Lord or Mistress's personal achievements and didn't leave a hint of why Charles Potter's journal was so important.

Something Nokky said bothered him. The elf seemed worried almost fearful when discussing about the book. Of course the elf was young at the time. _I'll go ask him one more time to see if he remembers anything,_ Harry demanded.

Exiting the library, Harry headed for the house elves quarters with purpose, feeling that he just might be close to unlocking the mystery. The house elves quarter's were not as bad as he expected them to be. Each elf had a room in the quarters, neatly furnished with the necessities; a bed, a bedside table and a mirror. No doubt Harry's mother must have had a hand in this.

Nokky was in his room, though not alone as Harry expected. Another older elf with an aged hunched back sat on a stool supporting his body weight with a cane. Nokky saw his master and flustered rushed over to offer him a seat on the bed. The other house elf didn't say anything, just regarded Harry with passiveness.

"Sir, have a seat here," Nokky urged, pushing Harry into a sitting position. "What brought you to visit me today?"

Harry admitted, "I'm still a bit curious about the missing book, my grandfather's journal." He leaned forward and clasped his hands together. "Are you sure you don't remember anything else?"

"No I don't," Nokky refused firmly. "I told sir everything I know."

The wizard saw truth in his words. Nokky genuinely didn't know anything else. _I suppose the only people or elves who know must be before his time._ Harry's eyes strayed to the ancient house elf sitting in silence in the corner. "Who's that," he asked Nokky.

"That's my great-uncle," Nokky answered. "I've been taking care of him. He's too old to work…" His expression turned to panic. "Please don't banish him," Nokky pleaded. "I can work hard enough for the both of us."

"Calm down Nokky," Harry ordered. "I'm not heartless. I just want to know if maybe he knows anything about the book."

"Thank you sir," Nokky said gratefully before thinking for a minute. "My great-uncle's name is Clocker. He was in charge of old Master Charles's rooms. So he might but, he is ill in the mind. He can't understand the same way he used to by sir can try."

Taking that as permission, the Gryffindor edged closer towards the old elf. "Clocker," Harry called out in a loud voice. "I want to ask you some questions is that ok."

"I'm old not deaf," Clocker growled out. He finally opened one of his eyes glaring at Harry from below. "Who're you to wake me up?"

"Uncle that's our current master," Nokky admonished. He turned to Harry, "I apologize."

"Oh yer the new Potter heir," Clocker addressed a surprised Harry. He never met a house elf that would speak to their masters in such a way. Even Kreacher was more polite than him. Perhaps that's what Nokky meant when he said he was sick in the head. Well, not like Harry cared, at least he was lucid.

"One of the books in the Potter library is missing," Harry explained. "I know my grandfather had removed it a while ago but now someone has stolen it. Do you know anything about what my grandfather wrote in it?"

Clocker set his feet on the ground, using his cane to lift himself off the stool with difficulty. He approached Harry scrutinizing every part of him before snickering. "All Potter men look like clones of themselves. I can see you got Master Charles's weak bones."

Harry didn't know whether to feel offended or complimented.

The old elf continued, "I knew Master Charles well. Was his own personal elf." He tapped the cane to his chest almost falling over if Nokky hadn't caught him. Leaning on his great nephew and allowing Nokky to seat him on the bed next to Harry, Clocker began again, "I knew more things about the man than any of the other elves. That book, that bloody book, was Master Charles's most prized possession. He never let go of it and never revealed what was in it. But I knew what he did-"

"Uncle, that's enough," Nokky demanded.

"Let me say what I want to say, I'm your great uncle!"

"Why won't you let him finish," Harry asked annoyed. He was finally getting somewhere.

"I told you, uncle is sick in the head," Nokky repeated, mild anger in his voice. "He has these delusions about Master Charles. Ever since that day, when Master Charles took the book away, uncle had never been the same."

"What did he say."

"I said the truth," Clocker exclaimed. "I told the truth. Everyone thinks Master Charles was such a great man, but he wasn't. Master Charles was a Dark Wizard!"

"Uncle!"

"He was," Clocker bellowed in that shaky voice of his. It was filled with malicious amusement. "He was a dark wizard who did many terrible things and that book of his was only proof of it."

"Uncle," Nokky scolded. "We musn't speak ill of the dead and our masters. I'm sorry Master Harry, please forgive my great uncle he is ill. Do not punish him." The younger elf almost prostrated on the ground.

"No no," Harry quickly replied. Turning to Clocker he asked, "What did he do exactly?"

"Dark magic, Light magic, Old magic," Clocker answered. "Master Charles knew all kinds of magic but I don't know what he practiced them for. Just that his evil deeds are all safely locked away in that book. Lost just as it should be" The old elf must have spent his energy, because after that sentence, Clocker nodded off back to sleep.

Harry knew he wouldn't get anything more from the ancient elf. Bidding Nokky goodbye, Harry left absorbed in his thoughts. He recalled the gold letters on the case labeled: _Charles Potter._ The boy shivered. Just what type of man was his grandfather?

* * *

" _Magic is all about intent. The more powerful intent, the more powerful spells a wizard or witch can cast. The incantation only asks as a trigger word to allow us to visualize our intent better. Which is why talented people with great spacial and visual awareness often do not need incantations. Those with extreme talent in the area can sometimes reach the level of wandless magic. Wizards like Albus Dumbledore being a modern example and those people end up creating spells that can change the world."_

Intent. If it was intent that they wanted, then Hermione had plenty. The intent to eradicate the Death Eaters without mercy. The intent to ruin Albus Dumbledore. The intent to change the Wizarding World from the hateful place it was. Was that enough?

The little tiff she had with was still fresh in her mind. While she gave the impression that none of her words bothered her, there was still that little twinge of hurt that Hermione felt when she was called a mudblood or a know-it-all. _Which doesn't make any sense_ she huffed. Why should the words of a blood supremacist bother her? _Just goes to show about how much of my insecurity rears its ugly head._ Still, Hermione couldn't rein in her emotions. Years of being friendless and called arrogant had caused a huge blow to her self-esteem. But, the witch couldn't avoid being weak. There was still work to be done, worrying about her social life could come later. Even if she was alone, even if the world turned on her, Hermione would get her revenge. So, until then, Hermione could not afford to be weak.

The one advantage the girl could see in the mentality of the Death Eaters were that they were very resistant to change. Even now, their main goal is to return the wizarding world to a time where wizards were feared among muggles. That would be their downfall, for you see, the reason the muggles had eventually dominated the wizards were because of their progress in technology. The Death Eaters still use the weapons that their ancestors used during the Middle Ages. The Killing Curse had only so much power with the ability of killing one person at the time. If newer weapons were created, the side with more power in their arsenal would win. Being a muggleborn, Hermione grew up with the mentality of the muggles.

The Gryffindor pulled out another book from her pile, _1001 Ways Your Potion Could Go Wrong._ It was time for the Wizarding World to be hurtled into a new era.

* * *

"Oi Harry, Hermione we need to get going," Ron yelled out from outside the door of the Potter manor.

"Would you hurry up and leave already," Draco grumbled. "You woke me up from a nap." He was very disheveled, not something the Gryffindor trio were used to seeing. Without his perfectly gelled hair, he looked almost like a normal human being. _He looks like dog crap,_ Ron thought gleefully in his mind, looking at the thick bags under his eyes. _Let's make fun of him later._ He looked to Harry who also had a similar grin on his face.

Narcissa hadn't come to see them off like she always had, which bothered Harry once he got over Draco's appearance. When he saw her earlier, something had seemed off like she wanted to attack someone. He sneaked a glance at Hermione. There was only one person who could annoy the normally poised woman like that.

"Come on," Ron shouted. "Mum is going to roast us if we don't come back by 10." This motivated the other two to place their hands on the portkey. The wrath of the Weasley mother was no joke. Even if it was Harry, he would not be spared from the destruction.

* * *

"Do you know what time it is, " asked sternly at the three kids with their heads bent.

"10:01," Ron answered weakly.

"Exactly," bellowed. "You're one minute late."

Ron complained, "It's only one minute, mum!" Harry elbowed him while Hermione whispered ,"Shut up." But, it was too late. The damage had already been done. His comment only unleashed the full power of the Mrs. Weasley scolding.

Finally wising up, the three nodded their heads solemnly just to make the punishment quicker. Luckily because school was just right around the corner Ron received no punishment.

Just before the three could make their escape, stopped them. Harry, Hermione and Ron didn't like the smug look on her face. "One more thing dearies," she started sweetly. "Bill's home."

Ron paled. "Damn," he let out hoarsely. This only set off his mother again.

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY," Bill roared chasing after the fleeing form of his youngest brother. "You come right back here this instance."

"Fat chance," Ron yelled back between deep breaths. "If a madman tells you to wait would you do it?" People said Ginny was an exact copy of their mother and they were wrong. Those people have never seen Bill furious. It was the special kind of anger only the eldest child had. He dodged the obstacles, Ginny accidently dropped on his path, like...chairs. She hi-fived Harry when Ron finally tripped on one before he got back up before Bill could catch him. "So I ditched you, get over it," Ron pleaded once he was safely behind the dinner table.

"YES, it's because you ditched me that I'm pissed," Bill clarified.

Ron shot back, "Well I apologized. What else do you want me to do?"

"I knew giving you the position was a mistake," Bill snapped. "You were told to stick by me at all times, right? That was for a reason. Look at what happened the first time. You sat at the wrong side. Do you know how serious that was. That wasn't some random seat you chose. I get that you think you're too cool to sit with your brother but that only showed how immature you are. Mum should take the Prewett title back, you're clearly not mature enough for it." Each word was a knife sent Ron's way.

"We both know that you can't take the title back," Ron retorted. "It's mine now. Mum not longer has the authority to take it back." He narrowed his eyes. "And I knew exactly what I was doing. I know how important this seat is. I'm following my beliefs."

"I can't believe you," Bill snarked. "You're turning into Percy except you're more of a failure than he was. At least he had grades to back him up. You both have no respect for this family." The silence afterwards was deafening. Ginny turned to Hermione and Harry mouthed, _Merlin's saggy britches_ with wide eyes. Ron they could see was literally shaking with anger that when he gripped the table, it shaked too.

Usually when faced with criticism, Ron would accept it and brood darkly to himself or Harry later but this time there was actual anger flaring in his eyes. "Everyone, all of us give Percy so much _crap_." He slammed down on the table hard. "When we know very well that Percy didn't abandon the family because he wanted to. Do you not forget how Dad, how everyone acted when Percy opened his mouth criticising Dumbledore. It wasn't even outright insults, just polite speculation and everyone ostracised him. Everyone except mum, ignored him in his own home including Ginny." The Weaslette had a look on her face like, _don't drag me into this._ Bill looked mildly guilty but Ron continued. "What type of person would want to stay in a house where people who are supposed to be his flesh and blood treat him like an enemy. Dad even threatened to _disown_ him. Percy is a git but he doesn't deserve what we did to him." To everyone's surprise a noise that almost sounded like a sob came from Ron.

"You know, I'm starting to think that maybe Percy hadn't been wrong after all," Ron finished before running to his room. A bewildered Arthur Weasley entered the room because he heard loud noises but was passed by his clearly angry youngest son.

"What on earth happened," he asked a guilty Bill, an annoyed Ginny, passive Hermione, and just plain uncomfortable Harry.

"I may have made an awful mistake," Bill admitted slowly finally coming to terms about what he said to his younger brother.

"I never thought I'd see the day when Ron would defend Percy," Ginny said apathetically, shrugging. "Percy's a smart priss and Ron's just a priss." Harry shifted nervously to his other foot while the group watched Bill knock on Ron's door trying to apologize that, no he hadn't meant what he said, to just please come out so they could talk. Ginny sighed. "They're all so dramatic my brothers. But, Ron's right, whatever Percy believed in what we did wasn't right. Sometimes my family's devotion to the Order is ridiculous."

"Oh you think so," Hermione asked curious. This good be another potential member of the Syndicate.

Harry rolled his eyes. Of course Hermione was ready to jump at any opportunity to gain new members.

Eventually Bill gave up. His shoulder slumped now showing his fear of losing yet another brother. Ginny felt that it was time to step in.

"Come on," she beckoned Bill. "We're going to have a talk with Dad about you little feud with Percy and Ron. Besides, Ron needs some time to cool down just like everyone else." Bill obeyed and they left, leaving Harry and Hermione to stand awkwardly outside Ron's door.

Harry took the initiative and knocked gently. "Er Ron, mate," he called out. "Bill left so could you let me and 'Mione in maybe?"

The door opened, revealing a...not upset Ron. _What_ was the word resounding in both Hermione and Harry's minds. There was a smirk on the red head's face which was oddly reminiscent of a certain blond haired ferret's. He opened his arms in as if saying " _tada_."

Chuckling, he ushered his friends in, locking the door behind him. "Well, what did you think of my performance?"

"Sorry mate," Harry replied. "I quite follow what you meant by performance."

"You don't spend time with Malfoy without picking up a little tricks," Ron said while waggling his eyebrow. Hermione understood that he played his family but didn't know how. Ron leaned forward. "I met up with Percy the other day," he whispered.

"What," exclaimed Harry. He hadn't said anything about that!

"Actually it's more accurate to say he met up with me," Ron corrected. "I decided to forgive him. He wasn't wrong with Dumbledore and the Order anyway." A flash of guilt covered his features. "Plus, I wasn't lying when I talked about how we treated, doesn't matter how arrogant he was it was wrong. He's still my brother" Ron brightened up. "After we reconciled, I got Percy to help us. Currently he's our insider in the Ministry."

"Well done," Hermione praised him.

"He agreed to help us," Harry repeated to himself. It was mind blowing to think that straight-laced Percy Weasley would agree to being a spy for Harry's group. _Their group._

"Which is why I took advantage of Bill," Ron explained. "Do any of you guys know how?"

It finally dawned on Hermione. "An excuse. If people saw you spend time with Percy outside even though you haven't given a hint of forgiving him, people would be suspicious. But, if you take his side in an argument because you felt guilty, everyone would assume that you were reaching out to your estranged brother."

Ron nodded smugly. "That way if Dumbledore and the Order ever wondered why I would spend time with Percy, my own family will provide the cover story when really…"

"... you're receiving information," Harry finished. He looked at his friend. It was almost scary how much of Ron's inner Slytherin showed itself now. Harry knew it was always there but before it was suppressed somehow, only showing itself during games of chess.

"You're becoming quite the Slytherin," Hermione quipped brightly, voicing Harry's thoughts.

Ron's face darkened. "Don't compare me to those bloody snakes."

"You shouldn't be ashamed of being cunning," Hermione scolded. "It's a pretty useful trait." Hearing Ron grumble at that she turned to Harry and said, "Remind me to abolish the House system when we take over Hogwarts."

Harry's eyes widened. "Take over Hogwarts," he stuttered.

"Yes, you don't believe that we're going to leave it at the hands of the old prick do you," Hermione answered. She leapt off the bed and walked towards the door of Ron's room. "I'm going to sleep," she announced. "It's a long day tomorrow."

* * *

The tearful goodbyes and hugs from and the tense atmosphere from Bill and Arthur Weasley was what the Gryffindor trio and Ginny left to as they boarded the Hogwarts Express. In stark comparison, Draco Malfoy had no one to send him off which suited him perfectly well. Before his father would sternly tell him not to shame the family name while his mother stood uncaringly to the side. There was no warmth no hugs, but that hadn't bothered Draco. It wasn't becoming of a Malfoy to show such foolishness. But, Draco knew his family cared about him, especially his father...until he went crazy in the return of the Dark Lord. Still Draco preferred his mother over his father any day. The only thing Lucius had to offer him was power but, that power was taken away by him, his son.

No, what bothered Draco the most was the realization that he was alone in Hogwarts. Even though he planned to include Zabini and Pansy into the fold, there was a chance that they would refuse. They were Slytherins after all which made them unpredictable. Crabbe and Goyle he could forget about. They were morons and followed the Dark Lord blindly.

Draco entered an empty compartment, knowing fully well the dangers his wanted status brought him. Not to mention there were plenty of sleeper cells in Hogwarts too. His charmed notebook glowed a soft green, notifying him of a new message. Draco flipped it open, it was from Hermione.

It read,

 _What compartment are you sitting at_

 _-Hermione_

The Slytherin supposed that Harry and his sidekicks were now his friends. _Friends with Gryffindors and Hefflepuffs._ Oh how he had fallen!

But, Draco couldn't answer Hermione just yet. If his hunch was correct, Zabini and Pansy would arrive to find out the answer why their friend defected. If they sought him out first, that meant they could be convinced to join. If Potter and his friends came, it would only convince them not to.

Just as predicted, the compartment door slammed open. Draco jumped a little, regained his composure before feeling the full brunt force of Zabini's fist.

"What the hell," was what Draco heard nursing his bruised cheek. Behind Blaise stood a betrayed looking Pansy

"I understand that you're confused," Draco began before getting cut off by Blaise.

"Damn well we're confused," Blaise agreed, closing the compartment door and taking a seat next to Pansy. "What are you planning?"

"What, you don't believe I defected because my conscience told me too," Draco retorted.

Blaise snorted as an answer.

"Did you join the Order," Pansy asked quietly.

"The Order," Draco chuckled. "No, I'd never join the Order."

"Well you must have joined someone reliable otherwise you'd be pissing yourself," Blaise noted, brightening up considerably when it was clear that he didn't join that blasted group.

"Let's just say they offered me a better deal than the Death Eaters," Malfoy hinted. "And I was wondering if you might want a piece of that prize too." He dangled the bait, now all he needed to do was wait to see if they'd take it.

"What is this group," Pansy asked, narrowing her eyes. She looked at Draco suspiciously.

"Can't tell you that unless you join."

"You're really confident about them," Blaise muttered unsure. If this "group" whoever they are could convince Draco to switch sides that meant they had a chance against the mad Dark Lord. That would be a dream come true, but…

Blaise glanced at Draco. His friend was the pure definition of Slytherin. He looked out for himself. That meant the choices he makes are usually good ones but, they were betting their lives here. Could they really trust a fellow student? But, Draco wasn't just a student, he was a lord too. By himself, he holds a considerable fraction of the Dark Lord's current power.

"I'll do it," Pansy declared unexpectedly. Even Draco showed surprise at her willingness to join. "You bastard," she continued a smile playing on her lips. "How could you keep this from us?"

"Keep what?"

"My father told me an interesting story about a certain Weasley and Potter that joined the Wizengamot," Pansy explained. "You sly snake, you got the backing of several major pureblood families behind everyone's back."

"I cannot confirm or deny anything," Malfoy teased. Thank god his friends weren't idiots. They were taking his offer seriously. "If you want to know more, meet me at the first floor bathroom after curfew. Everything will be explained there"

For the rest of the ride, the Malfoy lord brushed off all the questions his friends tossed his way. There would be time for answers later.

* * *

"Hi welcome to _Pyrrich_ ," greeted a cheery receptionist. "How may I help you?" The man before her had blond hair and sunglasses.

"Hello," Percy greeted back. "My name is John Piltcher. I work for the _Billionaires Gazette,_ and we're doing an article on Philanthropists of the new age. I believe I have an appointment with Simon Picket."

"Sure let me check." The receptionist tapped something in her keyboard a couple times. Her ever present smile faltered when she didn't see his name. "I'm sorry-"

Suddenly her eyes rolled backwards and she collapsed with a thud. Percy hid his wand in his sleeve and made a show of panicking.

"Help," he shouted. A security guard rushed over.

"What happened?"

"I don't know," Percy sputtered out. "She just collapsed. Oh Merlin! Is she alright?"

"She's alright," the security guard said after checking. "Just unconscious. Don't worry I'll just take her to a hospital just in case." Carrying the woman on his back, the guard left the lobby leaving Percy alone.

He immediately set to work. Luckily, Jacob had coached him on how to use the computer so Percy opened up the files he wanted and cast a spell to copy the information on a piece of parchment to be examined later. _The things muggleborns can come up with._

Percy didn't have much time so he clicked the files closed and removed his disguise. His red hair returned to normal. As he left, he passed by the security guard followed by a couple wizard cops. Looks like they found out the receptionist didn't just faint on her own.

The yelled something into one of their muggle devices, a walkie talkie Percy believed.

"We got a suspect. Blond hair, sunglasses. Assaulted a woman with a fainting spell earlier, over."

But Percy just walked leisurely and flagged down a cab. Since he was in the States why not enjoy his stay?

* * *

A/N: Dumbles is mad ain't he. Wonder what he'll do now ;). As always my beautiful, lovely readers please let me hear your voices. Read and review.


	12. Scene Five II

Disclaimer: JK Rowling can keep this universe. I'd just screw it up.

* * *

"There is strength in numbers."

-unknown

* * *

"Welcome back," Dumbledore greeted the students of Hogwarts. The grandfather persona was flawlessly back in place, giving Harry no indication of the ruthless person underneath. The Headmaster beamed at all of his students. "I hope you all had an enjoyable New Years and you're all refreshed and ready to learn. But before that, let's all dig in." He waved his arms in a flourish and the crowd cheered ready to eat.

Hermione pushed the vegetable around in her plate, distracted by something just past the Gryffindor tables. Harry and Ron followed her gaze, only to see the Slytherin table divided. It was very blatant. Draco sat at the right side of the table, across from him was only Parkinson and Zabini. The rest of the Slytherin table sat as far to the left as possible. The gap was hard to ignore, the Gryffindor witch could also see some professors try their best not to be obvious but they were glancing confused at the Slytherins. Just before the break, Draco was one of their prized members after all.

"Well that just proves who they support," Harry confirmed flatly.

Ron breathed, "Blimey, they're treating him like an enemy."

"That's because he is-well to them he is," Harry corrected. "Dunno about Zabini and Parkinson though."

"Reckon they're the ones Malfoy was talking about," Ron asked. While they were on the Hogwarts express, Draco had jotted a quick message to Hermione that he would be bringing new members when they returned to Hogwarts. There wasn't a doubt on her mind that those two were the friends he mentioned.

"Of course," Hermione agreed.

"You think they're trustworthy," Harry murmured.

"We'll find out soon enough won't we," Hermione stated taking popping a carrot in her mouth. _Well if it doesn't go well, we can just obliviate them._

* * *

"I already regret my decision," Blaise grumbled to Pansy who ignored him so he continued. "I mean come on, he must have a death wish throwing the Dark Lord out of the manor. I mean he is my _best mate_ but I wouldn't _die for him,_ ya know?"

"Glad to hear it," came a snarky voice. Draco Malfoy stepped out of Myrtle's bathroom. "Wouldn't risk a hair for your arse either."

"Thank Merlin," Blaise almost shouted. "We've been waiting ages."

"We've only just arrived," Pansy corrected.

"That's one second too many!"

"Sorry to waste your precious time," Draco drawled. "But could we please get on with what we came to do?"

"Fine," Pansy relented. She pushed past Draco, making the Slytherin raise his eyebrows. Looks like she didn't forgive him for the little stunt he did.

"After you," he said mockingly to Blaise taking a little bow.

Inside they were welcomed by Harry Potter who stood by one of the broken sinks, hands casually stuck in his pockets. He raised his hand in greeting at Draco who nodded back. The whole scene was surreal to Blaise and Pansy who were used to the two clawing at each other. Harry almost seemed happy to see Draco.

"You all ready," Harry asked.

 _Ready for what,_ Blaise wondered.

Then Harry turned to the sink, and...started talking to it? Blaise was ready to make a run for it, but Draco was blocking the way. Pansy leaned closer and instead of words, the Golden Boy was hissing. _That's right, he's a parsel mouth_ she realized.

Instantly the sink slid out of place revealing a downhill tunnel filled with slime and grime. Blaise and Pansy had a sinking feeling that they wanted them to enter it.

When Harry gestured them forward, Pansy demanded, "Where are you taking us Potty?"

Harry frowned but it was Draco that answered, "Chamber of Secrets."

"Haha that's hilarious," Blaise snapped. "Really what is this place?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "It's the actual Chamber of Secrets."

"What," the two Slytherins screamed out. _The girl's bloody washroom is the location of the Chamber of Secrets. Was the great Salazar Slytherin some kind of pervert,_ Blaise wondered. If so he could get it…

Pansy did not share such positive thoughts. _Disgusting._

Finally Harry was fed up, "Would you please just get in?" They were wasting time.

The urge to leave or the urge to enter a Slytherin's paradise. It was a tough decision. Eventually curiosity won and the two Slytherins entered the tunnel.

The tunnel lead to an atrium that was considerably cleaner compared to the tunnel. With the giant head of Slytherin behind them, a group of people sat on a round table. Pansy and Blaise recognized everyone one of them. The faces of Ron and Neville greeted them as well as- Hermione Granger?

"What is she doing here," Pansy spit out, stopping at her tracks. She glared at Hermione with as much strength she could muster.

"Just have a seat please," Draco ordered tiredly.

They all sat but Pansy was not done. "I thought this was going to be a meeting with just _proper_ wizards and witches." She turned to Draco. "I can't believe you. Where's your pride, getting friendly with a mudblood like a blood traitor. Should've realized that Potty, Weasel and mudblood were a package deal." Ron leapt out of his seat but was restrained by Hermione.

 _That's some fighting words,_ Blaise thought to himself. He shivered. _Judging by how quiet Granger is it looks like it will turn into a bloodbath._

But the blowout Blaise expected never happened. Unfortunately Pansy just kept going.

"Besides how can we trust goody-two shoes Granger not to blab to the Order anyway," Pansy challenged. "How can you join these people when we have this brown-noser as a member?"

"This brown-noser founded this organization," Hermione said softly. A look of disbelief was on the Slytherin witch's face, but Hermione elaborate, "Now I made this organization for one purpose and that is to save the Wizarding World from the forces that wish to do it harm. Frankly, so long as the Death Eaters and the Order exist progress cannot be achieved." She had prepared this speech for a while. "But to do that, that means throwing aside the beliefs you Slytherins so proudly retain. That you purebloods," Hermione spat out the word. "Are better than everyone else. People who think they are great never improve."

"That's because we are better than you," Pansy shot back.

"The Sorting Hat should've placed you in Heffelpuff," Hermione suggested. "Because the amount of loyalty you have towards your blood is ridiculous." She took out her wand, making Pansy jump thinking she was about to shoot her. Instead, Hermione pointed at her own hand and silently cast, _Reducto._ A gash appeared on her hand, the blood dripping freely on the table. "Look, my blood is the same as yours. How are you better?"

"Now if you were a Slytherin," Hermione snapped. "You'd realize that I'm giving you a great offer. We will be in charge of the wizarding world eventually and if you both agree to join us you'd be members of our inner circle. That's a big deal."

"And if we refuse," Zabini asked, speaking out for the first time. He was genuinely curious.

Hermione beamed at him. "Then we'll obliviate you until you can't even remember your own name."

 _What the I thought Gryffindors are supposed to be good_ Blaise thought nervously pasting a wary smile on his face. Now that he thought about it, Draco and Potter have been standing by the exit hands never leaving their pockets. _Man, they aren't kidding._ Looks like they were fully prepared to attack them if they didn't agreed. Well, Slytherins aren't known for their stupidity. Blaise looked at a seething Pansy. _At least most Slytherins._ He inwardly pleaded that Pansy wouldn't piss off the scary mud-muggle born witch. _Not to self, do not call Granger mudblood anymore._

Luckily for the Italian, Pansy was not stupid. As much as she wanted to show this mudblood her place, Pansy did not miss the guarded stances of Draco, Potter and Weasley. Plus, Draco seemed to trust them. Surely joining wouldn't be a mistake?

 _Please, please, please Pansy,_ Blaise prayed. _I don't want my memory wiped! I just nailed that hot Ravenclaw chick yesterday. That memory needs to stay in the vault._

"Fine, we'll agree," Pansy relented, still glaring at Granger.

"There is one condition," Ron interrupted, speaking up for the first time.

Pansy looked down at him in disgust. "And what would that be Weasel?"

Ron decided to ignore that slight. "Oh just a _simple, quick_ unbreakable vow that you will always act in the interests of the Syndicate." He shrugged. "Nothing major."

"An unbreakable vow," Pansy gasped. "You break that and you die, you know?"

"We all made one," Ron insisted. _Everyone except me,_ he thought giddy. Well, he'll just keep that to himself.

"But-"

"Pansy just make the vow," Balsie urged. He didn't miss how Draco and Potter edged closer.

Pressure from all sides, Pansy took out her wand and reluctantly pledged, "I Pansy Parkinson, do swear that I will be loyal and work towards the interests of the Syn-Syndicate…" She stumbled over the last word. _Merlin so embarrassing. Why are we called the Syndicate? What a stupid name._ _Who chose-_ She looked at a cheerful Hermione. _Of course…_

Now it was Blaise's turn. He rolled up his wand sleeve, took out his wand, and winked at Hermione who was not impressed. _Man, tough crowd. "_ I Blaise Zabini, do swear to be loyal and work towards the interests of the Syndicate." The magic took hold on both Slytherins and the atrium lit up briefly in a swirling silver glow before disappearing as if it was never there in the first place. The awkward atmosphere was clear now. Clearly, the group had not thought about what to do next.

Blaise saw that it was his duty to relieve the tension. He clapped his hands twice. "Now that we're all friends, let's put the threatening wands away and talk about what to do next."

 _Thank Merlin it went well,_ Malfoy took at seat at Ron's left while Harry sat on Hermione's right. _What to do next? Now that's the million galleon question._ If they didn't think of something quick, Pansy would nag all week. He felt a dark aura next to him.

He could almost hear Pansy say, _you had better not have signed me up for a doomed organization._

The Malfoy had never been more happy to hear Granger speak ever.

"For now all we're focusing on at school is recruiting more members," Hermione explained. "Already we have a couple people in mind: Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot, and Ernie Macmillan."

"Why a bunch of Hefflepuffs," Pansy asked. She thought they would be more eager to recruit Gryffindors.

"They're pureblood," Hermione elaborated. Blaise and Pansy nodded approvingly. "Specifically neutral purebloods. Since we're building our base there, it makes sense to recruit the neutral purebloods first to encourage the Gryffindors and Slytherins to join as well. If they join, then Ravenclaw would soon follow. If I started with Gryffindor..."

"Then Slytherin purebloods would never join," Blaise concluded. The rivalry between the two houses ran deep. If either were approached first, the other would naturally oppose it. But if a house not involved in matters were what they focused on first, then both would be more accepting to their side. They really couldn't afford offending either house.

Hermione smiled at Zabini. Glad to see that someone got it. "Yes, that's exactly it." Truthfully, it was annoying to go through things this way, but there was nothing she could do. _If only we could abolish the house system._ It was really the main reason why the wizarding world couldn't evolve. _Maybe that's what its main purpose is._

"Is that all you wanted to tell us," Pansy asked coldly.

Hermione was unfazed. "Yes, it's getting late isn't it. I think it's time for us to leave. " She yawned. "And get some sleep."

Everyone got up and stretched their limbs. Chatting idly, the group separated in two and went back to their dorms.

...Everyone except Neville who teared up in the corner. _Everyone forgot I was here._

* * *

In Transfiguration, Harry entered the classroom and took a seat. But not at his usual seat right beside Ron. He chose the table in front of a depressed looking Susan Bones. Earlier, Harry gave Hermione a nod to show that he would be beginning the mission immediately. And so, he sat waiting for Hannah to show up as well. It would be better to approach both at the same time.

An exhausted Hannah entered the classroom. There were bags under her eyes indicating that she hadn't slept in a long time. Just before the break, in the same class, the girl was called out of class only to hear that her mom had been murdered by Death Eaters. Harry didn't think Hannah would come back after the break, but as terrible as it sounded, it was good for their cause.

Guilt churned in his stomach as he turned towards the two girls. They both gave Harry a curious look, wondering why he was sitting with them.

"Hey," he called out.

They replied, "Hey."

The conversation stopped. Harry began to sweat. What was he supposed to do now. Quickly he pulled out a piece of parchment Professor Mcgonagall handed them and hastily said, "Do you guys know how to answer this question?" _Real smooth Harry._

Susan frowned. "Why don't you ask Hermione?"

"I-uh-erm," Harry stammered before blurting out, "We had a fight."

Hannah gasped, "Oh no. What was it about?"

"Homework," Harry answered lamely.

Susan gave him a sympathetic look and answered the question for him, "The answer is _Intent_."

"What," Harry asked. He hadn't really looked at the question.

Susan repeated, "The key part of transfiguration is the _intent._ You have to mean what your enchanting."

"Mean it," Harry whispered. What Bellatrix said to him back in the Department of Mysteries resonated in his mind. _You have to mean what you spell, Potter!_

"Could I possibly have a chat with you two," Harry asked suddenly. "After class that is."

Susan and Hannah exchanged a confused glance before cautiously nodding.

* * *

After class, the three walked out of Hogwarts and took the trail by the lake. Harry took the lead immersed in his own thoughts about what he would say to the two witches behind them. Susan and Hannah lagged behind. Finally Harry stopped by the giant oak tree beside the lake and sat down on the bench next to it. He patted the seat next to him urging the two to join him.

And so they sat, all three not saying a word for a few minutes. Finally, Susan could not handle the silence. "Why did you call us here?"

"I'm sorry for your losses," he replied bluntly.

Susan nodded not thanking him or saying anything.

But the normally calm and sweet Hannah snapped, "I'm sick of hearing that."

Susan cried out, "Hannah."

"If that's all then we're leaving," Hannah declared. She got up.

"Wait," Harry ordered. She stopped in her tracks. "Don't you want to get justice?"

She balled her fists. "Of course I do. They killed my mother." Susan placed a comforting hand on her friend's back.

"What about you, "Harry asked turning to Susan.

"Me too," Susan admitted softly. "Aunt Amelia was my only family."

"What if I told you I could guarantee you justice," Harry put in slyly.

"What are you trying to say," Hannah asked flatly.

Harry began, "The people who were supposed to protect you, the Ministry and the Order. They're not very effective are they?" Susan snorted.

"How would you like the power to protect yourselves," Harry suggested. "To not rely on anyone. I can give you that."

"You mean like the DA," Susan inquired.

Harry snickered. "No, not the DA. I'm dismantling that group. What was I thinking naming a group after that bastard?" He rubbed a hand through his hair. "No, I'm talking about a separate third party in this farce of a war. One headed by people we can trust...ourselves."

"So that's why you sat with us that day at the Wizengamot," Susan realized. Hannah shot her a quizzical look. She explained, "Harry is the new Lord Potter-Black." Hannah widened her eyes, looking at Harry at an entirely new light. Susan continued, "You know Harry, we all thought you were an idiot that accidently sat at the wrong spot."

The Gryffindor scowled.

Susan took no notice of this. "But, to think you were actually were making your own faction! How interesting. Now that I think about it, Ron joined right before you. Was that a part of your plan?"

"Yes."

"Wow." Susan smiled. "Fine we'll join you." Hannah nodded.

"What," Harry exclaimed. _That was much easier than I thought it would be._ "Why?"

"We're Hefflepuffs," Hannah replied. "We're loyal to our friends and family." Her gaze hardened. "Even after death. I will avenge them."

 _Hefflepuffs are terrifying aren't they,_ Harry realized.

The delightful task of wooing Ernie Macmillan to their side was left to Ron who trudged down the hallway looking for the pompous Hefflepuff.

* * *

It wasn't that Ron hated Ernie, just that he was a pain. No one should have so much energy. Or maybe he was sucking other people's energy like a constantly motivated dementor. It didn't take long for Ron to find the boy. The volume of his voice was a sure enough guide. There the Hefflepuff prefect was, lecturing on a couple desperate first years about their duty as Hefflepuff students.

"Oi Ernie," Ron called out.

Ernie turned around with a flourish. "Ah Ron good chap. I was in the middle of teaching these firsties about what it means to be an upstand-"

Ron cut him off, "Yes, yes got it. Could I have a word? Some important, prefect stuff."

"No problem, old sport," Ernie bellowed. He turned his heels dramatically toward the tortured firsties, earning an eye roll from Ron. "You lot run off now. We'll be having a word later." Before he could finish his sentence, the firsties had already fled the scene. Ernie huffed before addressing Ron. "Alright. What do you have to say for me."

"What did you think of the DA," Ron asked bluntly.

"I enjoyed it immensely."

Ron declared, "Well we're dismantling it and starting a new group."

"Oh!"

"Ron added, "But this time, the Order will have no connection to it. We are completely independent of Dumbledore."

"A new faction I see," Ernie said loudly for all to hear. A couple portraits craned their ears. _Not good._

Ron's eyebrow twitched. _Why don't you just scream it for the world to hear, nitwit?_ "I'll give you more info later. Now will you join or not?"

"Of course I will join," Ernie exclaimed. "For Harry, we Hefflepuffs will stand behind him."

"Good," Ron said before saying goodbye. He walked as fast as he could. The recruitment took five minutes, much less than Harry's but somehow Ron felt more drained.

* * *

"Can we please take a break Perce," whined the voice of an adult male.

"No," Percy replied taking another piece of parchment. Jacob hadn't been working anyway. _Where is it?_

"We've been spending the entire night doing this _research project_ of yours," Jacob complained. He slung an arm around his friend. "Let's just watch a movie or something."

"You're obsession with muggle technology never ceases to amaze me," Percy drawled shrugging off Jacob's arm. Something caught his eye. "Hey look."

"What?"

Percy pointed at the parchment. "This figure… The money that _Pyrrich_ sent out of the country. Don't you see something strange with it?"

Jacob took a closer look. He shook his head. "No."

"Ok," Percy pulled out another piece of parchment. "This is the amount of money entering the company at one time: 30,000 galleons. But once it goes in, it suddenly disappears."

"What did they do with it?"

"That's where this comes in, "Percy explained returning to the first document. "Where did the money go? It wasn't used in any other funds or whatever. There is money being sent back to Britain and it is unbelievably huge. What if the galleons were spent but was being returned back to Britain."

"You mean?"

Percy nodded. "They're returned back to Britain after being converted from galleons to US dollars and into pounds. In each exchange, they're integrated the funds into other sums of money so no one would notice. Hiding money within money."

"Good Merlin," Jacob breathed. "They're money laundering."

"I don't exactly think it's Kingsley and Hestia doing it themselves," Percy admitted. "Through a series of transactions that would be tough to follow, I believe all that if we dig deep enough we'll see that the money is returning to one man."

"Who?"

"Albus Dumbledore," Percy said simply.

"Dumbledore," Jacob blurted. "Are you sure? Be careful what you say."

"It's him," Percy answered confident. "And all we need to do is get proof." He stood up gathering his parchment and put on his coat. "I'll be leaving now. Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron on Friday. We're going to pay a visit to a couple non-profit insitutions here in London."

"Where," Jacob asked. _Just what did I get myself into?_

"Where Pyrrich claims the money is going."

* * *

They had another Syndicate meeting yesterday. And Hermione found that it was much easier than swearing the Slytherins in. The Hefflepuffs had agreed on joining beforehand so extreme _persuading_ was not needed. So, they had time to discuss other matters.

Flashback:

"Welcome to the inner circle," Hermione greeted the new members. Susan, Hannah and Ernie smiled back taking a seat at the expanded round table.

"Just how big is this inner circle supposed to be," Pansy asked snarkily.

Hermione was tempted to hex the Slytherin. "In case you haven't noticed," she gritted out. "There are three members for each House here. All we need are three members from Ravenclaw and that will be our inner circle."

"Why bother," Pansy challenged.

This time Neville not wanting to be ignored again answered, "To promote inter-house unity. Each house gets equal power."

"For the Ravenclaws can I make a suggestion," Harry asked.

"Sure," Draco responded.

"Luna Lovegood."

"Looney," Draco and Ron cried.

"Look I'll explain later," Harry said. "She just needs to be one of us."

Hermione shot Harry a look but moved on. "So our symbol is a dragon as you are all aware." She displayed the Weasley twin's dragon design. The brown silhouette a Hungarian Horntail. The issue is how we will recognize each of our members."

"You mean like you want a dark mark,"Blaise asked wrinkling his nose.

"Of course not," Hermione answered. "I don't want to brand our members."

"How about we wear a dragon symbol, every one of us," Hannah suggested.

"Wear as in..?"

Susan thought for a moment. "Jewelry, clothing that sort of thing. Maybe our especially passionate members can tattoo themselves the logo. Just as long as they have it on themselves."

"Very well in a show of good faith I will wear the mark first," declared a puffed up Ernie. He waved his wand in a flourish at a ring he pulled out of his pocket. The metal around the ruby transfigured into a coiled up dragon bits of ruby for eyes.

"Me next," announced Susan. She pulled out her necklace from under her robe. She too transfigured the swirls of colour on the stone of the amulet until it resembled a dragon.

Hannah gasped. "Susan! Are you sure? You're aunt gave you that necklace."

"It's fine," Susan reassured. "A necklace won't replace the time I spent with my aunt." Hermione's heart clenched though she didn't know why.

Everyone turned to Draco who had been sitting back tuning out the entire conversation.

"What," he asked annoyed. "Oh wait, oh no. No, no no… I'm not branding myself again. You all know what happened last time."

Everyone continued to stare at him.

Draco felt sweat build up on his neck. The pressure was real. "Come on, my name is bloody Draco. That practically means Dragon. Isn't that symbolic enough." They weren't going to let this go were they? Looking for an escape the Slytherin found one. He lifted his arm where the button on his robe was. Then he too took out his wand and transfigured the design on the button to resemble a dragon. "Is this good enough."

Hermione nodded happily turning her attention to the other two Slytherins who followed suit and transfigured the buttons on their robes.

Ron was next who chose to transfigure the designs on his necktie. Harry stood up and pointed directly at his coat of arms. The Hogwarts emblem and the background turned into a coiling dragon. _Getting cocky aren't you Potter_ Draco thought. _Even if you remove your symbol you're still a Gryffindor. So flashy._ But he was lord, so he was somewhat untouchable.

But it was Hermione who shocked the rest. Without hesitation, she pushed her sleeve back and pointed her her wand on her exposed right arm. Muttering a low spell a beam of grey light shot out from her wand and a black dragon was branded on her arm. The Slytherins flinched. The resemblance of the Dark Mark could not be missed. _What was she doing?_

"Let this be proof of my devotion to this cause," Hermione murmured but everyone heard. "No matter what we face in the future, we will revolutionize the wizarding world." The word revolution weighted on the group. Blaise smiled nervously. There was no turning back was there. Hermione continued. "We will fix the flawed system that allowed the rise of Voldemort." Everyone flinched once more save Harry who noted the first time Hermione said the snake's name. "Let this be the birth of a new wizarding world. A new Wizard order."

As absurd as it seemed, a feeling of passion swept through the group. They were literally facing the world, but at that moment they felt solidarity as wizards and witches that wanted to make a difference. The only problem was that their opposition had the same passion too. Hermione clenched her fists under the table. _Mom, Dad… all this is for you._ As the group cheered, Ron gave Hermione a worried look. She seemed to be too reckless lately.

* * *

The next day Dumbledore was welcomed by a portrait shrieking at him so early in the day. What could possibly be so important, he had no idea. Sighing he addressed the frantic painting. "Peter what is the matter?"

"I was tailing and his friends," Peter rushed out.

The Headmaster sat up straighter. Now he was interested. "And what did you find out," he asked calmly.

"You were right," Peter began. "They have been forming their own vigilante group. I heard one Hefflepuff when one of Potter's friends, the red-haired one, approached him."

There was only one Hefflepuff that matched that description and it was Ernie Macmillan, heir to the House of Macmillan. First Draco Malfoy, then Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and now Macmillan. _Why would Harry approach them_ Dumbledore pondered. _Unless…_

"What about Harry and his other friends," Dumbledore demanded. "Who did they approach lately?"

"Harry didn't do much," Peter answered. "Nothing notable. He was spotted with these two other Hefflepuff girls. One is an Abbott. He was comforting her after hearing that her mother died. Nothing suspicious."

 _It's just as I thought_ Dumbledore realized. _He's gathering a support base of purebloods._ But why? From what he knew now, Harry had support from the Houses of: Potter, Black, Abott, Bones, Prewett, Longbottom and probably Malfoy. Who knows who else he managed to snag? There was no way Harry could have thought of this by himself. Working with a Slytherin, bah! He had carefully sown the seeds of discord between the two houses on purpose so they would never unite. And now the boy was trying to gain support elsewhere to undermine his authority? Rage built up inside the Headmaster. It was all because of that girl. In just a few months Miss Granger was slowly unraveling all he had worked hard for. Well… not anymore.

Dumbledore had warned Harry not to disregard him back at the Ministry. It was high time he had dealt with the girl anyway. The sooner Miss Granger is removed, the sooner Dumbledore could correct the influence she had on the boy. None of the inner turmoil surfaced on his face. He was still the image of a serene old man. Without turning around he softly called out, "Phineas, could you please summon Professor Mcgonagall and Miss Granger to my office."

"Of course Headmaster," Phineas replied respectfully before sliding out of his frame.

* * *

"We have one free period before class," Ron celebrated.

"We're supposed to use this period to study," Hermione scolded. Ron scowled.

Luckily Harry agreed with him. "We can study later. Why don't we head to the Quidditch pitch?"

"Yes," Ron agreed immediately, jumping to his feet. Harry turned to his other friend. "You better come too."

Hermione sighed. "Fine, I'll bring a book." It was a nice day outside too. For winter, the atmosphere wasn't too cold.

Before she could get up a portrait near her table, cleared his throat getting her attention. "Are you Miss Granger," he asked.

"Yes."

The man in the portrait stood up importantly. "You are being summoned to the Headmaster's office. You are to go there at once." On that note, the man left.

 _Why does Dumbledore want me?_ Hermione turned to her other friends, the same question clearly on their faces as well as worry.

"I'll meet you guys at the Quidditch Pitch later," Hermione reassured. "Let's just see what he wants." Ignoring Harry's suggestions about going with her, she walked past her friends heading towards the office of the old man.

Along the way, she passed by a confused Professor Mcgonagall.

"Ah Miss Granger," the professor called out. "Dumbledore had summoned me with you. Did something happen?"

"You mean you also don't know professor," Hermione inquired shocked. _Just what was this meeting about?_

When they entered the office, they were welcomed by a somber Dumbledore who sat behind his desk quietly, face sorrowful.

"Miss Granger if you would please have a seat," he asked quietly.

Hermione sat bewildered. "What am I here for, sir?" Professor Mcgonagall took a seat beside her.

"I'm here to discuss a very troubling matter involving you Miss Granger," Dumbledore began gravely. "I'm very disappointed in you."

That comment hit Hermione hard, even though his opinion should not matter so much. "What," she sputtered. Professor Mcgonagall also sported a similar confused expression.

"It's come to my attention that you've been founding your own gang here in Hogwarts," Dumbledore continued his voice growing more firm. "One that might be a threat to the safety of our students. As headmaster I cannot allow that."

 _How does he know about the Syndicate?_ Hermione's eyes widened. _Who told?_

"Miss Granger is that true," Professor Mcgonagall asked but her favourite student ignored her.

"It's my duty to protect the students as a whole," Dumbledore affirmed. "Especially in these troubling times. Sometimes punishments are in order."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. _A punishment, eh. He just wants me away from Harry._ But what did that mean? Detention for the rest of the year, her prefect badge revoked? That would make handling the Syndicate difficult, but not impossible with her charmed notebook. Looks like she one upped the old man.

Dumbledore took a deep breath, gathering his strength. "Hermione Jean Granger, I am terribly sorry to have to say this but, you are from here on _expelled_ from the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I hope you understand how difficult this decision was for me but it's for the best. You will leave the premises tomorrow morning. Enjoy your final night here."

* * *

A/N: Happy BC day everyone! Dumbledore ain't playing is he? How will Hermione get out this I wonder? Percy's also becoming a great investigator. Maybe he should change jobs. Well this chapter is shorter than usual (by like one page) hope y'all don't mind.

About the names being deleted last chapter... I have no idea what happened. I tried fixing it like twice but for some the site doesn't like it when I type certain names. It's super weird. Anyways I will continue working on that. If worst comes to worst, I can make up code names instead. Like Fuzzy Bunny represents Malfoy's mom (Lol, I'm just kidding about that don't yell at me XD).

Please read and review my lovely readers. I'm a fan of all of you. For every review I will chug a glass of chocolate milk. I'm not just looking for an excuse to drink chocolate milk ...definitely not (yes, yes I am *sigh*).


	13. Scene Six II

Disclaimer: I don't own nothin'

* * *

 _"_ _I am no saint. Instead, I aim to be a defender. A protector. An advocate for equality. As far as I can see the wizarding world needs no more martyrs, but a leader to lead the towards the light at the end of the tunnel. And that's who I am."_

 _-Jonathan Spit, muggleborn activist (self-proclaimed prophet) 1865,_

 _two weeks before his assassination_

* * *

Hermione gave a nervous laugh and took a step back. "You're joking."

"No Miss Granger, I'm afraid I'm not."

Silence. Even Fawkes didn't make a sound instead looking back at the girl his expression hard as hard as a bird can be. Hermione turned her head, to the teacher she once considered her favourite.

Professor Mcgonagall looked equally as shocked. "Albus," she began. "You can't possibly… Hermione is our brightest student!"

"My decision is final."

"ALBUS!"

"MINERVA," Dumbledore snapped, making the woman flinch. "my decision is final," he repeated.

For a second, professor Mcgonagall motioned as if to argue further before stepping back. She held out a hand towards Hermione. "Come along now," she said gently to reassure her former student.

The witch slapped her hand away, attention focused on the wizard before her. "just who do you think you're fooling old man?"

Mcgonagall said aghast,"Miss Granger!"

The young witch ignored her. "this has nothing to do with me turning people dark. You just want me dead." she slammed her hands on the desk before her, startling Fawkes. "You know the minute I step out of Hogwarts the Death Eaters will come flying. Admit it!"

"Don't worry Miss Granger," Dumbledore said reassuringly. "You will be protected."

Hermione laughed. "Oh really. Just like how you protected Lily and James Potter, Sirius, my parents." She threw her hands up and grinned. "Face it. It's too late. There really is no point killing me. Harry already knows the type of man you are."

He raised his voice. "Enough. As long as I am Headmaster, I am obligated to protect its inhabitants. Even from each other." the wizard narrowed his eyes. "Now leave."

Professor Mcgonagall lead Hermione out of the office, this time keeping a firm grasp on her shoulders.

* * *

It didn't take long for them to reach the Gryffindor tower. Hermione would have overpowered Professor Mcgonagall if the old hag didn't take her wand. Yes hag. There was no mercy for people who side with Dumbledore. But, right now Hermione's personal grudges don't matter. Instead her thoughts were mainly on escape.

Her eyes darted everywhere. A way out but where? By that time, they were already in front of the portrait of the fat lady who swung open somberly, refusing to even look at the young witch. The lively chatter in the Common room immediately stopped the second the two walked in. _Must be a strange sight_ , Hermione mused. _The honor student looking half crazed while being dragged to their death by their favourite professor._ She looked at each of of her housemates dead in the eye daring one to speak up. No one did.

"Now up you get," Mcgonagall ordered gently prodding her ward up towards the dormitories. It was then Hermione saw it. Sticking out from the professor's pocket was her wand. She knew what she had to do, but hesitated for a second.

Then she remembered. _If I don't, the moment I leave Hogwarts, I'm dead._ She glanced briefly at her former teacher. _Does she know,_ Hermione wondered, _that she was not leading a disgraced student out of school, but a witch towards her death._

 _An unwitting executioner,_ Hermione thought wryly. Fitting for a professor who thought with her heart more than with reason.

She could already see it in her mind. Her death would be labeled an accident or suicide. Dumbledore would no doubt come to her funeral, engaging the masses towards the cause. To fight for the rights of the poor muggleborns-no mudbloods who would suffer the same fate. And of course, the flock of sheep with wands would wipe tears from their eyes and brandish their wands to die for the shepherd, Dumbledore. All in her name.

Hermione gritted her teeth. _No way in hell._

Her reaction was automatic. There was little time to think. Instantly, the witch lifted her foot and rammed it into the older woman. Professor Mcgonagall doubled over gasping, "Miss Granger." She fumbled for her wand, but Hermione didn't let her, slapping it out of her hand and giving the professor a hardy push. Professor Mcgonagall fell backwards, spiraling down the steps until reaching the bottom, an unmoving huddled heap. The other students hadn't moved an inch, shock evident on their faces as they all stared at Hermione fearfully. She stared back.

Until the mound that was Professor Mcgonagall twitched. Hermione fled up the steps. She reached the first door, flung it open, entered then slammed it shut behind her, before mumbling multiple locking spells before sinking to her knees breathing heavily, wringing her hands in her hair.

"...Hermione," came a hesitant voice. Hermione pivoted around, wand ready to attack surprising Ginny who had been changing into her Quidditch robes.

"Merlin," Hermione cursed. "Ginny don't scare me like that."

Someone pounded on the door. "Open up," came a shout. A professor? a student? Hermione didn't know, the blood suddenly rushing in her head loud enough to block out sound.

"What's going on," Ginny asked.

"Broom," Hermione stuttered. "Your broom."

"My what?"

Hermione shouted, "YOUR BROOM GINNY! Give me your broom!"

Ginny narrowed her eyes clutching the broom defensively. "What did you do Hermione?

The pounding grew louder, flashes of light accompanying it. High level charms, that meant Flitwick. He could break the lock any minute know. The blood rushed faster.

"Please Ginny please please please give me your broom," Hermione pleaded desperate tears almost spilling out her eyes.

The red-head looked reluctant but, still handed her broom after a moment.

The door was blasted open and Flitwick and Snape entered ready to apprehend Hermione. But, the witch was already at the window sill, straddling a broom and bracing herself before plummeting out into the air.

* * *

Percy sat by the window of a cafe ordering a slice of French Toast and a mug of coffee holding a file of government documents with his left hand looking every bit the bureaucrat on his break. Except, he was nowhere near his workplace and the file he had had no relation to his work whatsoever. Pyrrich UK was only just across the street from the cafe but, his interest was not on the building. Rather it was the hesitant, tall young man heading towards its front doors.

Jacob looked every inch of a man about to head towards his execution. His shoulders were hunched and though he tried to look calm, the beads of sweat along his brow told otherwise. Luckily, he remembered to wear a disguise and for that Percy was thankful. Though he wondered while his friend disappeared into the building whether they would still be caught after all.

Percy Weasley sipped his coffee extra slowly, calming his panicked nerves. Everything would be fine. Jacob had still not left Pyrrich after an hour. There was no way he got caught, did he? Otherwise the aurors would have been apparating in waves.

A long agonizing two hours later, Jacob finally resurfaced before apparating away to Percy's apartment. Percy breathed a sigh of relief. His bag looked fuller than it did before.

By the time he arrived back home, Jacob had already sprawled himself on his couch, an arm covering his eyes. His hair was turning back from a pitch black to its blonde.

"What took you so long," Percy scolded.

"For some reason, the fake company had a long lineup," Jacob complained. "Line up for what, I have no idea and I let an elderly lady go ahead of me."

"Why?"

"She made me feel guilty Percy," he argued. " She was looking at me with the old lady puppy eyes. I'm not as heartless as you are."

"Fair enough."

Jacob threw his bag on the coffee table. "Anyway here is the stuff. Knock yourself out."

Hours later, they worked relentlessly. The Muggle student aid fund turned out to be fake. The Teacher's wages fund as well. The money, the missing 30,000 galleons all directed at Dumbledore who according to this, was head of both organizations.

"All done," Percy sang, twirling around his office chair grinning from ear to ear. He slammed a file folder onto the table. All twenty pages of documentation colour coded and in a clear thorough order. "Bring out the butterbeer Jacob!"

Jacob didn't reply looking down at his lap.

"Jacob," Percy called out again uncertain.

"I can't do this anymore," Jacob suddenly said. "I can't Percy, I'm sorry."

Percy's jaw clenched. "Why?"

"Why," Jacob exclaimed. "Don't you see? We're messing with the most powerful man in Britain. Oh Merlin, Perce we almost got arrested. He could kill us!" The halfblood stood up and started pacing. "I just got married Percy. Mary is pregnant. I can't let anything happen to me."

"Merlin," Percy breathed. "I had no idea. If you want to leave, I won't stop you."

"You should stop too," Jacob argued. "This isn't worth it. Just let it go."

"Look, I'll think about it." Percy rubbed his head. "But, first can we have a drink before we decide anything?"

On that note, Jacob slumped back onto his seat. "Fine."

"Oh and grab my journal," Percy yelled from the kitchen. "I have to tell Ron."

* * *

Harry only went to the Quidditch pitch to finally relax and enjoy a nice, peaceful, uneventful game of Quidditch. So why is instead of hitting bludgers and catching quaffles, he was busy watching his brainy friend fly through the sky dodging spells like some kind of wizard James Bond?

A friend who had slipped off her broom the next second later.

Harry cursed and shot his own broom forward, speeding towards the falling figure. He grabbed the back of Hermione's robes and tugged with all his might. Hermione immediately began to flail, making Harry's firebolt buck wildly in the air.

"Stop that," he hissed before noticing that he was in fact strangling Hermione. The smile he gave her was apologetic as he adjusted his hold so he was grabbing her around the waist instead.

"Chamber of Secrets," Hermione gasped between breaths.

"What?"

"No time for questions," she barked. "Don't let them catch me."

Harry nodded and they flew down towards the doors. The flashes of light stopped being shot out of the tower. It was only a matter of time before the professors would reach the Quidditch pitch. "This way," Harry ordered, grabbing Hermione's hand and tugging her through the hallways.

Myrtle was nowhere to be found and Harry wasted no time at the sink. "Open," he ordered before shoving Hermione inside.

"You've got some explaining to do," he said when they both got settled.

Hermione took a deep breath and said, "Dumbledore just tried to have me killed and I assaulted Professor Mcgonagall."

Harry had only one reply.

"Shit!"

* * *

In just a few hours all his problems would be solved, mused a smug Dumbledore. He leaned backwards against his chair, popping a lemon drop into his mouth.

Fawkes yawned on his perch and preened his feathers. Dumbledore sighed. The view outside his office was particularly beautiful that afternoon. That's when one of the machines whirred to life making the old man cock his eyebrow at it thoughtfully.

"There has been a breach at Pyrrich," he said suddenly, calmly into the air. "Go investigate."

Fawkes cawed loudly, spreading his wings before disappearing into a ball of flame. Dumbledore stretched out his fingers, grabbing a spare scrap of parchment and began writing. He had a few friends to call.

Ron ruffled his hair morosely in front of the pocket mirror. "Oi Draco," he called out.

"Malfoy," the blond corrected which the redhead skillfully ignored.

"You're a prick right," Ron continued. "How to I make my hair look all pureblood lord or whatever?" He tried once again the flatten the tuffs of hair, only to fail miserably.

"In your case Weasley that is a lost cause," the Malfoy deadpanned. "At best you can look like a bum who hasn't hit rock bottom yet."

"What if we gelled it," Neville supplied helpfully smoothing out part of Ron's head in a certain style, most of it slicked back to the left.

"But using too much hair products could damage Weasley's hair," Blaise argued, lifting a tuff of Ron's hair. "Look it already has split ends." The italian tutted, "Poor thing."

"You're all idiots," Malfoy said. "What matters is how you comb the hair. First you apply the product then comb it only a few times. Never brush. That's how you get hair as fabulous as mine."

Ron, Neville, and Blaise nodded in agreement.

Meanwhile, Pansy rolled her eyes. _Of course I'm stuck with these guys_. "Shouldn't we be doing something like, I don't know, working right now?"

"Now now Patty," Ron cut in.

"Pansy," she gritted. _Damn blood traitor._

"Whatever. Everything is going according to plan. By the time we go to the next Wizengamot meeting, we'll have the old man booted out of office."

Pansy narrowed her eyes. "Are you certain?"

"Of course," Ron replied. "I mean there is nothing that could go wrong." His notebook glowed in his pocket. "Ah look! Percy replied."

"Your source is your brother," Malfoy scoffed.

"Hush!"

Someone tapped Ron on his shoulder. He turned around to meet with an upset Ginny, eyes red from crying.

"Gin," he called out panicked. "What's wrong."

She answered softly looking at the Slytherins, "Why are you hanging…" Then she shook her head. "Nevermind. It's Hermione. She got expelled."

Everyone froze until Draco slammed his hands on the table. "Bloody hell." Maybe it was a mistake sticking his chances with this sorry lot. Blaise and Pansy shared the same sentiment, glaring at their friend ruefully.

"Why," Neville stuttered, the only one calm enough to ask.

"I don't know," Ginny said voice shaking. "She ran into my room asking to borrow my broom before flying out the window. Apparently after she got expelled she attacked Professor Mcgonagall and kicked her down a flight of stairs."

"She did what," Ron shouted.

"Then flew down towards Harry and then they both ran somewhere. What's going on Ron?"

A few tears dropped from his sister's face. Neville reached over to pat the girl on the back comfortingly.

As for Ron he sat thinking. Dumbledore figured out Hermione was the one behind Harry's recent insurgency but, that was a no brainer. And to expel a muggleborn during times like these…

Ron shuddered. They almost lost Hermione. He looked back at the group. At Malfoy who began fighting with the two other Slytherins. At Neville who looked lost and Ginny who once again began crying. When just moments ago they were chatting about hair.

So much for nothing going wrong.

* * *

The lights by the street along the cafe Percy sat at earlier flickered. Then one of the torches at Pyrrich UK flickered on. A long plume of flame reached out into the air forming a beak, before the rest of the bird's head followed it. Fawkes peered around the room, it's red eyes searching.

It trilled a low, unearthly note, then suddenly flames appeared out of nowhere forming the figures of people who had visited earlier. The magic residue left behind was still fresh and with it, Fawkes searched through the memories.

One man's signature stood out. A nervous looking man who stood behind an elderly woman. The phoenix flew towards the memory circling around it before giving the flames a lick. Glamour. That spell always had a tangy orange taste. No doubt about it.

But, who was the man? The bird flew a few step back examining the memory flames again. Except now the flames on his cheek was gone. No matter, his face was not his true appearance anyway. In fact Fawkes was going to eat a little bit more.

Now he had the whole night to sneak into the all the fireplaces in Wizarding Britain to find out who matched the magical signature. Then his owner would give him extra lemon flavoured bird feed!

Thankfully he didn't have to search hard. Fawkes sniffed the magical signature like a dog, flapping his wings curiously towards muggle London. There his prey's signature stood out the most, amongst the magicless lower class. Narrowing down to an apartment building in a quiet neighbourhood, it's walls looking like it was getting on in the years. The phoenix landed on the lamp post across the street.

Fawkes's beady eyes searched through the windows. Past the couple bickering beside a flickering TV. Past the middle aged woman dusting her bookshelves. Past a couple young siblings playing tag.

Then he found him. The man that was at Pyrrich, glancing out the window every now and then nervously and wrinkling the edges of his button down white shirt. And curiously his friend that came to join him by the window. Fawkes recognized the bed of red hair. It often walked down the same building of the school that the bird called home. He trilled to himself. Dumbledore would be pleased.

* * *

"What is it now," Dumbledore snapped, prompting Snape to raise his brows.

"You obviously been giving Potter too much freedom, " Snape taunted taking much relish trashing the boy...again. "This is what happens when you spoil those brats so much. I say we beat Granger's whereabouts out of Potter."

Dumbledore just shot the man a look. This is what he got employing an insufferable man child as his right hand man. No useful ideas.

Just then Fawkes morphed from a candle on Dumbledore's desk, chirping triumphantly a paper held by its beak.

"Finally some real help," Dumbledore cheered forgetting that he said that aloud. Snape glowered.

The headmaster scanned the paper, his expression growing solemn as he read. Snape craned his neck only managing to catch the letter "P" before the Headmaster crumpled the paper and shoved it into his robe pocket. He stood up and sliding his wand into his holster, wincing as he momentarily forgot that he was supposed to use his right hand.

"You forgot to take my potion yesterday," Snape noted, crossing his arms.

Dumbledore ignored him. "Focus on finding Miss Granger, " he ordered. "I want her out of this school one way or another."

"Where are you going?"

"Just going to see a few old friends and cash in a favour," Dumbledore said flippantly. "I'm afraid I won't be back for a while." He made to grab Fawkes's tail before hesitating.

"Don't worry, I didn't forget the potion," Dumbledore said as a passing remark, tense muscles relaxing as he observed the quick expression of relief the potions master showed on his face.

* * *

"Are you sure you want to keep doing this," Jacob asked once again as he put on his coat.

"For the last time," Percy chuckled, "Yes I do. Now get out of here."

"Why?"

Percy answered, "Because it's the right thing to do." He lowered his eyes. "Last year, I helped the government cover up You-Know-Who's return. For what? Now dozens of people are dead when we could have prevented any casualties. I cast away my family and our only salvation is a delusional old man who is no better than the Dark Lord."

"Percy," Jacob trailed off.

"I just want to try to make a difference," Percy continued. "There's more to life than cauldron bottoms."

Jacob was quiet.

"You know I want to stay, I really do," he said finally. "But I have to think of my family too."

Percy clapped him on the shoulder. "That's the first step my good lad."

On that note, Jacob nodded and turned away only to stop.

"That's weird."

Percy asked, "What is it?"

"I can't apparate," Jacob said to himself before rushing towards the window of Percy's flat. He peered outside before paling considerably. "Um, Percy."

The Weasley approached the window and looked out. A number of cloaked wizards had apparated across the street and were making their way towards the building.

"We need to get out of here," Percy yelled, frantically trying to open the front door. It was locked. "Shit, they put up wards."

"The windows are locked too," Jacob added. He clutched his head in frustration. "Shit, Percy this is what I was talking about."

"How many are there," Percy demanded.

"Five maybe six," Jacob answered, worry creeping into his voice.

Six men. _Could they fight them,_ Percy wondered. Jacob looked at him before his mouth fell open.

"You can't be... Merlin! You're actually thinking of taking them on," Jacob cried out.

"Well what ideas do you have," Percy snapped.

"Think about it," Jacob replied. "They could be Death Eaters or Dumbledore's men. You know our government is corrupt. Even if we kill them, that means Azkaban. We'll get kissed." He moved towards his friend. "Don't you have a portkey or something?"

Percy's face lit up. "That's right! Ron gave me a journal. The bookmark inside acts as a portkey. It's in the room." He tried to open the bedroom door, but it was locked too. "The hell? Even in my own home?"

"Of course they put up wards to lock all the doors," Jacob moaned.

The Weasley ignored him, brandished his wand and shouted. "Bombarda!"

The door was blasted open bits or wall coming off. Jacob gaped at Percy while the other grinned.

They sifted through the rubble until they found the journal. Distantly they heard the front door in the other room open. There was their chance to leave! Except...

"Wait," Percy cried out. "The documents." _Without them all our work would count for nothing!_

"Let's just leave," Jacob pleaded. But, it was too late, the man had already ran into the living room, carrying the briefcase with him as the hitmen rushed into the apartment.

"Activate the portkey," Percy ordered grabbing onto the journal and taking out the bookmark. Jacob pressed on the portkey and mumbled the spell without hesitation. Unfortunately the wards also delayed the portkey's activation.

The countdown started.

 **Five** seconds. Five seconds until they escaped. _They only reached the kitchen,_ Percy thought.

 **Four** seconds. Jacob smiled at him reassuringly. Percy smiled back. It would be ok. They could escape this. They were-

 **Three** seconds.

One of the men had snuck up behind them, going ahead of the others. Percy saw a flash of light. His eyes widened slightly. He opened his mouth to warn.

 **Two** seconds.

Jacob's head came off his shoulders. Bits of brain, teeth, skin, and sinew flew apart splattering a still a surprised Percy, a shout still on the tip of his tongue. There had been no time to warn.

Another flash of light severing Jacob's left arm.. Warm liquid speckled Percy's front. Jacob's left arm still clutching the bookmark and the headless body, staggered a step before collapsing at Percy's feet. The previously white carpet now had a river of red.

 **One** second.

The men were in the room. One met Percy's eyes and raised his wand mouthing two words.

A flash of green light.

Then Percy felt a hook tug his navel and the world warped around his very eyes. Next thing he knew, the carpet floor became a bed of flowers. Beside him was an intricate fountain and birds flew around him chirping. The sky was clear, a soft red glow around the setting sun. It seemed that he was standing in a palace courtyard.

There he stood, feeling very out of place from the picturesque scene before him. His clothes were a mess. The battered suitcase of files and the journal he in one hand, the other holding the bookmark, his arm still held outstretched. Blood and other viscera from his friend covering him from head to toe. The severed arm had long since slid off the portkey.

A blonde woman sat at one of the tables beside the main doors of the manor, sipping an iced glass of wine being served by a house elf in a butler's costume. She met his eyes indifferently before setting her glass down.

The house elf popped out of existence before reappearing next to Percy, startling him.

"You must be one of Lord Prewett's brothers," Nokky said respectfully. He grabbed the man gently by the hand leading him towards the blonde woman. "A pleasure sir. If you would please have a seat while I bring a change of clothes. Don't worry about making a mess. We will clean it later."

"Lord Prewett," Percy repeated to himself. "Right Ron." It astounded him how normal he sounded. The shock must have kicked in.

"Where am I," he asked the house elf after a second.

"Potter Manor," the woman interrupted before sticking her hand out. "Narcissa Black formerly Malfoy," she introduced.

 _A Malfoy in the fabled Potter Manor,_ Percy mused before shoving the thought away. Like that was the weirdest thing happening today.

"Percy Weasley," he introduced as he took a seat next to her. He grabbed the woman's hand to shake it but, stopped when he saw her confused expression. _Oh, she wants me to kiss it._

"My apologies," he said, "but I'm not sure you really want me to," he trailed off gesturing to the gore splattered over his body.

Narcissa's face softened as she glanced at his red stained hand in disgust. "Yes, it's a pity. And your shirt is ruined too," she tutted.

"And my carpet," Percy quipped, startled that he could even joke. He giggled at the absurdity of it all. The giggle turning into a chuckle. Then full on laughter. From laughter to gasps. Gasps to sobs as the reality of the situation finally settled in.

And Narcissa Black said nothing and continued sipping her wine without a care in the world. But, she could sympathise. The first death was always the worst. It really was such a pity.

Those stains were never going to leave his shirt.

* * *

Had anyone looked out their window that evening, they would have seen an old man appear out of thin air across the street of Percy Weasley's flat. The old man brushed off his clothes and stroked his beard once before heading at a steady pace towards the front doors seemingly unperturbed by the blown out balcony and mist of stone residue coming out of the wrecked apartment.

Instead he headed inside, waving his hands to open the locked doors and entered the elevator. The music is not bad, he mused before leaving towards the only apartment on level 3 with its door missing.

The hitwizards were still inside, sitting on the strangely intact couch guzzling a few bottles of firewhiskey they found lying around.

One of them, clearly recognizing the old man jumped to his feet. "Professor Dumbledore, about the job you…"

Dumbledore held up a hand silencing him. "All in good time my boy," he chuckled, transfiguring a piece of debris into a chair for him to sit on. "It has been quite the long day, forgive this old man. Might you have some extra firewhiskey to share?"

Another scrambled to the kitchen for a glass before pouring the man some. "Here," the hitwizard offered.

"Many thanks," Dumbledore responded politely, taking the glass and reaching inside his robes for a small crystal bottle. He poured a drop into his drink before noticing the exhausted expressions of the hitwizards. "Long night," he asked.

"Yes,"the first answered. "This is our fifth job of the night."

Dumbledore offered," You might want of drop of this then." He waved the bottle in front of their eyes. "A little pick me up my potions master friend brewed for me. Would anyone like some?"

They all gave grateful looks of relief toward the old man and he gave each of them a drop. "A toast," Dumbledore announced. "To wonderful customer service!"

Simultaneous gulps resounded from all the men.

"About that," one of them interjected looking sheepish after swallowing. "We only managed to kill one of the men." Another gulp. " The other escaped."

"Which one," Dumbledore asked taking a sip.

"A ginger."

Dumbledore sighed and set his glass down. _Looks like the most troublesome person is still alive_. "And the other," he continued.

The leader waved his hand towards the bedroom. Dumbledore's eyes followed before meeting the tell tale bloodstain that reached the entrance. Intrigued, he stood up from his seat and approached the body.

His eyes trailed the ruffled pant legs and hiked up white shirt now stained red before landing on the remains of a neck. Dumbledore clucked his tongue with undisguised disgust and a bit of pity. He breathed heavily with the weariness of an ancient man who had weathered the trials of life. _I suppose I have,_ he thought.

 _How odd,_ he determined still looking down on the corpse. This wasn't his first kill, yet he couldn't help that feeling of regret looking down at what used to be a vibrant young man. Dumbledore had recognized the name when Fawkes told him. He was the young wizard working at the Department of Gringotts as a secretary to the Head of the Department of Finance. Such a pity to kill someone with such potential yet so necessary for the good of the Wizarding World.

"Anything else you require," the leader asked hesitantly after some time. Dumbledore paused in his steps before turning to face the man.

"You're right," he replied, fishing through his pockets for a bag of gold before handing it to the man with cheerful smile. "Thank you for your services. If you don't mind doing me a favour-"

"Of course," the hitman replied instantly noticing the extra gold the old man added as a tip.

Dumbledore continued," Do you mind casting the dark mark above this complex. You know, to throw off our dear, hard working aurors off our trail. If you don't know how to, I can be of some assistance."

One of the other hitman cast the old man a weird look before volunteering, "I was an ex death eater. Fake dark marks are one of our new added special services we offer to customers for an extra 10 galleons."

"There's been an increase of fake dark marks among our customers," the leader explained after seeing Dumbledore's questioning glance. "With the death eaters claiming credit for every muggleborn and blood traitor death, approximately 20% of the reported deaths are made by ordered hit. Don't worry we are trained to offer such services."

Dumbledore chuckled amicably. "That's a relief." Then he handed the man an extra 10 galleons. "I trust you will be able to handle clean up. Have a nice night," he called out one last time before exiting the apartment and apparating away back to the Three Broomsticks.

His pockets did feel considerably emptier. No matter the drops he gave the hitmen would be enough to kill them before dawn. Dumbledore thumbed the glass vial in his pocket. Completely untraceable too.

Snape specifically warned him that the potion was to be consumed only by him for his curse mark. Magic is a fickle thing. What it heals in one person could melt the insides of another.

It really was such a pity.

Good help is so hard to find nowadays. And Dumbledore was starting to run out of hitmen.

That reminded him of one delightful quote Madame Maxine once told him during the Triwizard Tournament. What was it? Oh right,

"C'est la vie," he murmured into the air.

* * *

 _If only they would just shut up,_ Ron wished feeling the pricks of a headache coming. As soon as they entered the Chamber of Secrets, the ferret shot off on Hermione and the arguement descended into a shouting match with everyone taking sides except for Neville and Harry who were trying to mediate and Luna who was humming to herself in the corner. Now Ron knew he wasn't the poster boy of maturity, but even he knew that this wasn't the best time to fight.

Hermione pulled out her wand.

Ron clucked his tongue. _Now this was getting ridiculous._

"Look mates," he started. "While I can agree that Hermione attacking a professor may make us look bad." Malfoy shot the witch a triumphant look. "but, we can all agree that if she didn't then she would have died." This time Hermione had a smug look.

 _Great now they look more hostile_ , Ron thought. "What I'm trying to say," he continued, "is that instead of arguing we should be thinking of a plan to fix this mess." Neville nodded his head rapidly.

"And how do you propose we do that," Blaise quipped, looking equally irritated.

"We can…," Ron started before trailing off.

Pansy prompted mockingly, "We can?"

"Hold on a second," Ron said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his glowing journal. "Oh no," he whispered fearfully.

"What now," Harry snapped.

"It's Percy," the Weasley stammered, dropping the journal. "He was attacked."

Harry's gaze lowered to the fallen journal. On the page, in red, glowed one word, "Danger." His brows furrowed in worry. Just what on earth is going on?

* * *

A/N: It's been a while hasn't it. Man a whole year. I bet you all have grown! *Cue nervous laughter

Let's just say life got really, really hard and leave it at that shall we?

But have no fear! I am back! I will finish this fic sometime in my life.


End file.
